The phillibeloo of the Cab-strike, I’ll never forget ye, Nor who brought out the Badge, oh no, what a pity? Or the Cabman’s best friend, poor lamented dear Dickey, But he never thought of the Flags! They must mount their banners up in the air, sir, Nor stir from the rank till hail’d by a fare, sir, And dub up their Tickets, its true I declare, sir, Yes, that is the rules of the Act. To see their Flags stuck up, it’s strange for to see now, Like those that they stick on a Christmas tree, now, They’re stuck full of letters and on it just see now, You can ride just for sixpence a mile! Now a man and his wife in the old fashioned manner, Could ride side by side just a mile for a tanner And two or three kids besides they could cram there, But now it’s just two for a bob; For a young one in napkins, it’s true what I tell you, Is considered a person, though a small one, it is true, Butt, a pot-bellied Alderman is counted as two, now, To help them to pay for the Flags! Now the Act is in force, I should not at all wonder That dustmen and nightmen and costermongers Will apply for a license and take out a number And mount on their foreheads a flag; And the people they shout, tho’ it’s really too bad, sir, As over the stones they go with their cabs, sir, I say, old pal, I’ll have your flag, And where is your ticket for soup. Now cabs of all kinds they must be inspected To see that no sand cracks are in them detected And all the shofle shofles they will be rejected Now won’t they look after the flags. Now I think of the Act to say more it no use is, They’ll rechristen the cabs, & stand no excuses, There’ll be no four wheelers or hansoms, they’ll all be called Bruce’s, Tho’ it does not say so in the act. DISLEY, Printer, High Street, St. Giles’s. THE FUNNY DIVORCE CASE. Now list to me awhile, And I’ll sing you a ditty, It will cause you for to smile, If not, it is a pity. It’s of a crim con case, And it has caused sport, Which lately did take place, At Westminster Divorce Court. So all classes high and low, Make out this case I well can’t, But it is a funny go, Of rummy Lady ----. Now this gay Lady ---- Cannot be right, or hardly, She said she loved other men, Much better than her Charley. Some say it was her dodge, And nothing but hanky panky, While others say all fudge, She is trying to act cranky. But whether she is so or not, This Lady ---- so clever, A propensity has got, She has, so help me never! She is so fond of sport, She has a mighty knack then, Of proving every sort, Lords, Prince’s too, and Captains.