Blame the Railways

Reprinted from the Staff, 20 May, 1924

If you read the caustic fudge
Printed in the ‘Daily Smudge’,
You’ll conclude it has a grudge
On the Railways.
Every day another growl,
It’s a squeal or else a howl,
Or some language almost foul
Re the Railways.

When the tragedies are light,
And there’s nothing else in sight,
That’s the time to have a bite
At the Railways.
So reporters off they trot
(Sometimes there are quite a lot)
Probing for some tender spot
Of the Railways.

Though it knows like you and I,
It demands the reason why
Fares are still ‘so very high’
On the Railways.
Readers of ‘ The Smudge’, ‘tis clear,
Must be taught to jibe and jeer,
Or must live in mortal fear
Of the Railways.

So, if Mr Newlywed
Comes home later than he said,
Then he has to ‘use his head’ –
Blames the Railways.
Or if Mr Like-a-lot
Stays to have a final ‘spot’,
What excuse d’ye think he’s got?
Why – the Railways.
If a tramway can’t be built
(Cos the State is short of ‘gilt’)
Still, ‘The Smudge’ must have a tilt
At the Railways.

If the traffic’s blocked by fogs
Or it’s raining cats and dogs,
And the line gets fouled by logs
Curse the Railways.
‘Praps, upon a scorching day,
There’s a fire in someone’s hay;
Though it may be miles away,
Pick the Railways.

If a colt takes sudden fright
At an engine in the night –
Smashes things up left and right –
Swat the Railways.
From some drummer’s sample box –
‘Spite of straps and ‘spite of locks –
There are mising ties and socks,
Charge the Railways.

Though we show in point of fact,
That the locks are quite intact,
Surely someone should be sacked
From the Railways.
If a lady sent a cat,
In a box made for a hat,
And it gets clean out of that,
Blame the Railways.

If some silk for Mrs Datch
Doesn’t just exactly match,
Who gets hauled up to the scratch?
Why – the Railways.
When there’s something ‘big’ in Town
(Like the Fleet – or the ‘Renown’),
‘Smudge’ says, ‘Service quite breaks down
On the Railways.

In hotels it’s just the same,
And the restaurants go ‘lame’,
And ther’s no one gets the blame
‘Cept the Railways.
Then a traveller, on the spree
(He’s been making rather free),
Finds a ‘spider’ in his tea,
On the Railways.

‘Course it isn’t there at all,
Isn’t even on the wall,
But it gives a chance to bawl
At the Railways.
So ‘twill be right to the last;
Be the service ne’er so fast,
People still the blame will cast
On the Railways.

And St Peter at the gate,
When he asks them why they’re late,
May expect the answer straight:
“Please, the Railways”.

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