Mrs. Bill Maggs and her friend Mrs. Screw
Indulge in a gossip as most ladies do—
Over the back fence while washing goes out,
They discuss all the business of people about.
Their husbands and kids and bargains today —
That young Mrs. Smith is "well on the way";
Everyone knows that it happens quite soon,
"And you know, they only got married in June!"
And as I said to Bill . . . Oh, the time sakes alive,
It's gone 4 o'clock, and Bill signs on at five.
There's nothing cooked in the house but some cake —
I'll just wrap him up a piece of raw steak.
Now Mr. Bill Maggs was a driver, you know —
A job that all hours a man has to go,
And, grabbing the steak, some bread and his hat,
Ducked off — and his Missus resumed her back chat.
Mrs. Screw was astonished, and said to Bill's wife,
How Bill cooks the steak, I don't know on my life?
Mrs. Maggs as she pegged some more clothes on the wire,
"Oh, he cooks on the shovel held over the fire."
Well, well, said the other as she dusted the mat
How funny, now what do you know about that?
Here's my old man coming, I'll have to duck in —
I'll be seeing you, I'm going to the pictures with Jim."
The ladies were pally, and secrets they'd swap
And they'd visit each other, and perhaps take a drop,
But Bill would get mad as a lion in a den;
Goddam the old woman — No lunch cut again.
The friendship continued till one day Mrs. Screw
Having exhausted all items of news
Said, "Mrs. Maggs, there's one thing not clear-—
I don't want you to think I'm inquisitive, dear."
So don't tell me, dearie, if you don't think you ought—
How does Bill do his business when he's taken short?"
I often get thinking of such things as these
And cannot make out how he gives himself ease!
Mrs. Maggs smiled and nodded, and here her voice drops —
Bill holds it, and holds it, until the train stops,
But, if he's had salts, well, that upsets the show —
When nature is calling, then something must go.
Now, so Bill has told me, and I know it's quite true,
When this happens sometimes, as sometimes it do —
Of course, such a thing doesn't happen each day —
But he shits on the shovel and throws it away.
Then Mrs. Screw, looking shocked as can be
Said to Bill's missus, "Well you're telling me —
I don't like his taste, it's a strange thing to do —
He shits on the shovel and cooks on it too!