But with 'is wavy flowing mane
She puzzled what to do.

It wasn't right for a mere man
Like Samson, so she thought,
To have such long and curly hair,
While hers was straight and short.

But what annoyed 'er more than owt
Was when they got to bed ;
He'd comb 'is 'air throughout the night,
In spite o' what she said.

The last straw came one Friday night,
When, after wrestling win,
'E went to bed and 'e began
To put curlpapers in.

Delilah, she was right fed up,
And middle o' the night,
Wi' pair o' shears, all nice and sharp,
She sheared 'im... what a fright!

When 'e awoke next morning and
Perceived 'is shaven head;
He cried like baby—aye, and sulked,
And spent the day in bed.
  But what 'e didn't realize
Was, as 'e'd lost 'is mane,
He'd lost 'is strength, and couldn't lift
Hisself from t' bed again.

So there 'e lay, in t' bed all day,
To let 'is 'air regrow;
Delilah 'ad to go to work,
Which served 'er right, you know.

So if your husband does the work,
And brings home £. s. d.,
Don't worry if 'e's got long 'air—
Just let the poor chap be.


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