ETHEL
by
Joyce Grenfell

  I don't understand Ethel.
I don't, I don't really.
She's one of my very best friends,
Just about the best, nearly.
She's an awfully nice girl, Ethel is,
Dainty and refined,
I mean she'd never do or say
Anything unkind.
But get her inside a stadium
And she seems to go out of her mind.

'KILL HIM!' she yells, 'KNOCK HIS BLOCK OFF!'
At ice hockey or football or what.
'KILL 'EM!' she yells, turning purple,
'KILL THE PERISHING LOT!'
'SH-SH!' I say, 'ETHEL!'
'SH-SH!' and I die of shame.
'KILL HIM AND BASH HIS TEETH IN HIS FACE!'
She says,
And calls him a dirty name.

I don't understand Ethel,
I don't, I don't truly.
She is always gentle and sweet,
Never a bit unruly.
She's an awfully shy girl, Ethel is,
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