My missus lets apartments
And of course I needn't say
'Aving 'ad years of experience
Knows 'ow to make it pay.
We've 'ad lots of funny codgers,
There is one we 'ave just now,
He's a Frenchy - enchy moo-soo
And kicks up a hawful row.

Spoken - He comed about six months ago, I know'd 'e wanted rooms whenever I see'd 'im, though I couldn't make out a word 'e was talkin' about. He jabbered away like this - (imitates Frenchman) "All right" I said,"Moosoo, I've jist the rooms that'll shoot. Twenty five bob a week cruets and boot cleaning included." Wot a trouble I 'ad to make 'im understand me. You see 'e couldn't speak Heng-lish as I could - and I couldn't parlez Frenchy - enchy!

Chorus: I can speak the dummy alphabet,
A little Gaelic do;
The lingo of Whitechapel,
And a bit of Irish too.
But of the Frenchy-enchy,
I've always made a botch
Tho' I parlez voo the Henglish,
And can also spriechen Scotch.

After lots of shrugging shoulders,
And repeating of "tray bongs"
Then I made him understand the rent
Of my a-par-te-mongs!
And although perhaps it might not be
The custom in La France,
I soon made him comprehend
I wanted "larjong" in advance.

Spoken - I was determined I would make 'im understand that, so I never left 'im till I got it in. But 'e's very hignurant, couldn't understand a word I said at first, and I'm sure I didn't know what he was a talkin' about. And wen two people is a jawin' away to each other, and neither on 'em knows wot the other is a saying, where are ye?


When first this Moosoo lodged with us,
His things we used to take;
But 'e knows a little Henglish now,
And seems more wide awake.
For if any cold meat's left
'E 'as it made into a stew,
And looks up 'is tea and sugar,
Which 'e never used to do.

Spoken - 'Taint that we ever took a lot, ye know, but, sometimes, we wos short of tea and sugar and if yer can't make free with your own lodger in yer own 'ouse, where can yer? He said, this morning, "Moosoo Smith, I leave out my pickles last night and 'alf ze bottle 'ave gone!" I said, "Indeed, Moosoo, it must have been the cat!" "Wot!" 'e said, Does your English cat eat pickles?" "Bless ye," I replied, eat anythink!" "Zen," he said, "I vill shoot ze cat." Will ye?! I answered, "then get out of my 'ouse." "Vell," 'e said, "I never knew a cat in France to put his paw in ze pickle-bottle and take out the best bits of cauliflower." "Ah! but Moosoo," I said, "You are not in France."


The Frenchy-enchy Moosoo then
Got in a hawful rage,
And I found that nothing I could do
His temper would assuage.
"Ah! Moosoo Smith," he said,
"I see, you take me for von dunce;
But give me your bill, and I vill pay,
And leave your 'ouse at vonce!"

Spoken - Which 'e did and jabbered away outside till 'e got a crowd round the door and as my 'ouse is in Soho, you may guess I 'ad plenty of Furriners. 'E made me so awfully wild, that at last I said, "Sir, you're a hass!" "A vot, sir? I do not understand you." I repeat, "Sir, you're a hass." "Sir, I do not know vot you say." So I turns to the furriners and I says, "Can any of you chaps tell me the French for hass?" One of them told Moosoo what I'd called 'im and being a big cove 'e knocked me in the gutter! That's the first time I ever 'ad a french roll in the gutter. Oh! if I could only 'ave parleyed a few Francez, I would 'av let 'im 'ave it, unfortunately,


Written and composed by Arthur Lloyd - 1892
Performed by Arthur Lloyd (1840 - 1904)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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