THE WOMAN HATER
by
Leonard Pounds

Well, yes sir, I'm admittin' there's a 'eap o' things I 'ates
I ain't in love wi' work, fur instance, closin' time or rates
I ain't perticler fond o' p'licemen, twins or 'also-rans'
Them there dislikes are much the same as any other man's.
But my real, cast-iron 'atred is for wimmin - any sort
From them that 'swanks' to them that 'spouts'
An' wears their 'air cut short.
"Why was wimmin born?" some arsk. I can put 'em wise
They was just sent 'ere to plague us, same as rats an' mice an' flies

Why, afore they're out o' chil'ood they know tricks - a bloomin load
I've watched a pig-tailed flapper when she's strollin' down the road
She'll drop 'er 'ankerchief as soon as some boy comes in view
An' instead o' treadin' on it, as a brainy chap would do
  'E picks the two-inch -square thing up, an' 'ands it back, an' bows
An' that's the start o' future kisses, button-'oles, an' rows.
If a gal tried that dropped 'anky trick on me - I'm sayin' if
Why, I'd boot it in the road, an' let the gal walk 'ome an' sniff

If that 'ankerchief could speak, 'twould say, "Now look 'ere Gert, or Con,
I'm fed up with bein' chucked about, so tie me on
That's 'ow a woman starts! She does this when she'd seventeen
When she's only just a cog-wheel in the Artfulness Machine
Deceitfulness, that's Woamn When the curate comes to tea
She'll say she's got no appetite - it ain't the thing, yer see
But when the feller's 'opped it, why she'll run an' change 'er frock
Then she'll wolf three pounds o' solids in ten minutes by the clock

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