Railway Tales

by C. Bramwell In t'Reichstag one day just a bit since, Two fellers sat - both lookin' glum; Wun was the great Adolf 'Itler, An' t'other were Goorin' - his chum. "Now, Adolf", owd Goorin' was sayin', "It's 'igh time that tha made a move; Tha' promised 'as tha'd invade England - Our power ta finally prove. "Ah've cleared tha t'way wi' mi Luftwaffe - We've browt t'RAF down ta t'ground; For each plane we've lost, they've lost seven Oh, do ah mean t'other way round? "Well, on t'watter ther's nothing ta stop tha Tha t'master on t'sea - tha knows that; So what in the world does tha wait for? Invade 'em - ah want a new 'at!" Poor Adolf 'ee looked very mournful, 'Is moustache it drooped on 'is lip; 'Is sleek lock of 'air was bedraggled Yer could tell the poor chap 'ad the pip. 'Ee pondered for just a few moments, Then openin' 'is mouth with a sigh, 'Ee sez, "Oh well, it's all reight thee talkin' But invasion ah don't think ah'll try." "Why, we've done it befoor", protests Goorin', "It's as easy as easy can be; We've done it on all t'other countries Ah can't think what's cum over thee! "We've only ta take t'same procedure Drop parachute-troops in t'back-yards." "Aye, an' that's wheer tha wrong", replies Adolf, "Tha's forgotten just wun thing - t'Ome Guards!" Well, owd Goorin' at first 'ee looked puzzled, Then 'olding 'is coat by the 'em, An' burstin' out laughin' right loudly, Sez, "Tha don't mean tha frightened of them? "Why, ther only a Fred Karno army, They only join up if they please; They're bow-legged an' knock-kneed an' bandy, Wi' whiskers reight dahn ta ther knees! "There's tall 'uns an' short 'uns an' fat 'uns, An' thin 'uns and chaps without 'air; Some's got gout - that's beside floatin' kidneys An' ther's some 'at's got no breath ta spare!" "It's all reight thee laughin"', sez Adolt "But they've rifles - machine-guns as well; An' between me an' thee an' the lamp-post, They'd be glad ta blow us lot ta 'ell! "Them owd 'uns can still use a rifle, An' in past wars 'ave won many palms; Why, the medals 'at some of 'em's wearin' Fill ther chests an' go under ther arms! "An' ther's wun other thing to consider An' it's the reason for most of mi fears; Ther's nearly two million of 'em An' ivvry ruddy wun... Volunteers! An' if some of 'em are a bit wheezy, An' if some of 'em walk wiv a stick; The mooar John Bull appears crippled The 'arder the fooil seems ta kick!"
The end