by Anonymous 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 'Ypocrisy, that's Woman. Yes, she's boss in that all right A baby's born next door, an' in she'll pop to see the mite "Oh, asn't it the sweetest nose" you'll 'ear 'er bawl While all the time she can't see if it's got a nose at all She'll say it's got its father's eyes or mother's anything She'll declare its little profile's like Lord Nelson or the King. Two days go by. The neighbours quarrel - such rows never cease An' then she'll swear the kid's the living image of Charles Peace. They're 'ypocrites in kissin', too - they'll kiss a man all right But see 'em kiss each other - why it's very near a bite Vexatiousness, that's Woman! My wife's mother came to stay An' falls 'ead-first down stairs before she'd been with us a day But wot annoyed me was, a jar o' beer was on the top An' she fetches down with 'er when she does 'er bloomin' flop. My wife yells, "Go an' fetch a doctor" Fetch a doctor! Bah Does any doctor know the way ter mend a gallon jar? Assertiveness, that's Woman! An' it makes my 'eart fair ache Ter see some married fellers at their wives' voice shake and quake I'm master in my 'ome, I am. My wife daren't disagree I rules the missis stern-like, with a rod of iron - that's me I 'ates wimmin - Wimmin, sir, the sweetest things in life Yes, man's best friend is Woman, sir! Good-night. Shhh! - 'ere's my wife!
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