  THEY lined the quays on every shore, They fought for ships to take them o’er; They filled those ships from stern to stem, And still there was no end of them. They came by river, road, and rail, By every Continental mail, By White Star, Inman, and Cunard, And sent the managers a card. With iron bars and chains of steel, A mixture of the sham and real, With mighty weights and cannon-balls They sought the London music-halls. From every land beneath the sun, And each of them the strongest one, They all performed the self-same feats, And still they played to big receipts. Still fiercer grew the strong man boom, And still for more the shows made room; For, since so much one strong man drew, What wealth might there not be in two! The halls were crowded night and day To see strong men with dumb-bells play; The playhouse saw its public lost, And all but “strong man” was a “frost.” They put a strong man in the play— The first in “London Day by Day”; Then Willard cried to Jones, “A plan! Put Sandow in ‘The Middleman.’” “Ah, me!” Pinero said, “too late— We might have saved ‘The Profligate.’ No Tosca and no Bernard-Beere, Had we but had a Samson here!” They filled the houses and the halls, They crammed the boxes and the stalls; Where’er a strong man did a show, They had to add “an extra row.” The men of strength were Britain’s pride— Adored, exalted, deified— Till suddenly John Bull awoke, And rubbed his eyes and saw the joke. “Good lord!” he cried, and danced with rage, “Have I gone daft in my old age? These chaps I’ve seen, I do declare, At every common country fair. “A hundred pounds a week for this! Pooh! bosh! here, hang it, let me hiss! The chap at fairs who did all that Collected coppers in his hat!” * * * * The strong men, finding all is o’er, Have wisely sought another shore; But, though they search from sea to sea, They’ll never find such fools as we. |
|
