  IT was a pirate omnibus, that plied its evil trade Along the London thoroughfares, and O, the games it played! It ran a stout old lady down, who wanted Temple Bar, And when they reached the Marble Arch, the cad cried, “Here you are; He charged a shilling, slammed the door, and then he sailed away, While driver and conductor yelled, “No use to make a fuss; We snap our fingers at the law—we are a pirate ’bus!” The Grand Old Man one autumn day was walking, axe in hand, Along that busy thoroughfare the gay and crowded Strand; He hailed a passing ’bus, and said, “Are you a Hampstead, please?” At once they seized and flung him in right on a lady’s knees. They bore away the G.O.M. and set him down at Bow, And when he said, “The Vale of Health—that’s where I want to go!” The ’bus conductor said, “Get out, you are a queer old cuss; I’ll trouble you for four-and-six—this here’s a pirate ’bus!” A coloured bishop, just arrived in town from Timbuctoo, Who wanted Shoreditch Church, they took and left him at the Zoo. And in the Inner Circle strayed, and lost himself at dark. In vain he looked for Shoreditch Church, he wandered round and round Until from rage and giddiness he tumbled on the ground; And when he heard the lions roar he funked, was taken “wuss,” And loss his wits; and now he’s mad, all through that pirate ’bus. Young Mr. Lawson heard the tale and went about the town, And found fresh victims here and there, all scattered up and down. He found a gray-haired gentleman, who left his home at Bow, As near as he could recollect, a dozen years ago, But who, through pirates on the road, had travelled here and there, And paid his income all away to meet the pirate fare, But could not get to Bow again. Said Lawson, “Is it thus? Then I’ll away to Parliament and board the pirate ’bus. No more the skull and bones across flaunts out upon the breeze; The buccaneering ’bus is bust, conductor Kidd is done, Paul Jones the driver’s game is up, his pirate race is run. And o’er the parlour fire at home the country folks to-day Tell wondering babes of those old days when they were borne away To desert isle and lonely spot, and yielded watch and “puss,” To pay the ransom and escape the roving pirate ’bus. |
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