HERBERT AND THE KIDNAPPERS
written by Paul Gerard Smith
performed by
Pat O'Malley
Now in case you've not heard of young Herbert, 
The fiend who was Pinwinkle's son.
Let me say he's a blight and a fever, 
Everything you don't like... rolled in one. 

When he was born, Herbert's parents, 
Was torn between love and remorse. 
His Mother had wanted a daughter, 
His Father a dog or a horse. 

Every day Herbert brought on more trouble, 
By the cute little things that he did, 
'Til his folks thought that they'd given birth, 
To a crime wave instead of a kid.

Pa would contemplate Herb with a shudder, 
And the sight of him made Ma turn pale. 
Till they wondered how they could fix Herbert, 
Without getting sent off to the jail. 

Well old Pinwinkle read in the papers, 
Of kidnappers lurking around, 
Who nipped a kid right off his doorstep 
And held him for two thousand pound. 

Now this gave Herbert's pa an idea, 
Of a way Herbert's spirits to curb. 
If the kidnappers did it to one boy... 
Why couldn't they do it to Herb. 

So they worked out with pencil and paper, 
What they'd save if their son they could lose. 
There'd be two shillings daily in victuals, 
To say nothing of trousers and shoes. 

So Mr. and Mrs. Pinwinkle 
Dropped a hint to a journalist friend, 
That if the kidnappers made off with Herbert, 
There was nothing that they wouldn't spend. 

Well the hint that they dropped reached the papers, 
And in turn reached the kidnapper's eye. 
And as business was dull at the season, 
They decided to give it a try. 

Then Mr. and Mrs. Pinwinkle 
Put on Herbert's best Sunday togs, 
And made him look clean and inviting, 
Then carefully locked up the dogs. 

Then they set Herbert out on the doorstep, 
Round about half past eight,
With a ten shilling note in his pocket, 
And a bottle of whiskey for bait. 

Bedtime came and still nothing happened, 
When a scream interrupted their prayers. 
Said father, "Well, there goes our Herbert. 
I hope he don't bleed on the stairs." 

For a fortnight the Pinwinkles waited, 
For a telephone call or a note, 
To say, "We're holding your Herbert for ransom. 
Pay up or we disect his throat." 

Came the end of the month and no Herbert 
And mother said, "Oh deary me... 
Herbert must be an angel by this time." 
Said Pa, "Aye! Let's have some friends in for tea." 

Just then came a ring at the doorbell. 
Father hastened to answer the bell. 
And there on the doorstep stood Herbert, 
With a note fastened to his lapel. 

He was smiling and rugged and happy. 
His cheeks was quite healthy and red. 
In one hand was an ear, and in the other some hair 
He had torn from a kidnapper's head. 

Well they opened the note and they read it. 
"Dear sir and dear madam", it went. 
"Here's your kid, we've no words that can picture, 
The horrible month we have spent. 

He gnawed off the thumb of the captain, 
And he sewed all the men's eyelids shut. 
Then he carved his initials on my hairy chest, 
And then he rubbed salt in the cut. 

We deserve to be hung we admit it, 
For the various crimes we have did. 
And besides we deserve to be quartered and drawn, 
But we don't deserve Herbert your kid. 

He's something a buzzard wouldn't sniff at. 
He's something a dog wouldn't bite. 
Please accept fifty pounds. Take him back off our hands. 
He's yours!... Heaven help you!... Goodnight!"
The end