_Head_ is not very good, I admit, but we must have _said_ in the last line, and as we were mad enough to have rhymes in the first verse we have got to go on with it. But when he proposed one night-- Did it by electric light-- Mabel, who retained her sight, Just looked at him and said:-- Now you see the idea? “Oh, Mr. Thompson, It isn’t any good; I shouldn’t like to marry you, So I won’t pretend I should; I know that you have riches And a house in Eaton Place ... (Here all the audience pulls out its handkerchief) I haven’t a doubt that you must be The properest possible match for me, But I DON’T LIKE--your FACE.” I have got another verse to this song, but I will not give it to you now, as I think the Editor is rather bored with it. It is fortunate for Mr. Bubble that he does not have to perform before an audience of Editors. Having written the lyric the next thing to do is to get a composer to compose music for it, and then you get it published. This is most difficult, as composers are people who don’t ever keep appointments, and music publishers like locking up lyrics in drawers till the mice have got at the chorus and the whole thing is out of date. By the time that this song is ready Mr. Bubble may quite possibly have exhausted the _face-motif_ altogether and struck a new vein. Then we shall have wasted our labour. In that case we will arrange to have it buried in somebody’s grave (Mr. Bubble’s for choice), and in A.D. 2000 it will be dug up by antiquaries and deciphered. Even a lyric like this may become an Old Manuscript in time. I ought to add that I myself have composed the music for this lyric, but I really cannot undertake to explain composing as well as poetry. The serious lyric or Queen’s Hall ballad is a much easier affair. But I must first warn the student that there are some peculiar customs attaching to this traffic which may at first sight appear discouraging. When you have written a good lyric and induced someone to compose a tune for it your first thought will be, “I will get Mr. Throstle to sing this, and he will pay me a small fee or royalty per performance”; and this indeed would be a good arrangement to make. The only objection is that Mr. Throstle, so far from paying any money to the student, will expect to be paid about fifty pounds by the student for singing his lyric. I do not know the origin of this quaint old custom, but the student had better not borrow any money on the security of his first lyric. For a serious or Queen’s Hall lyric all that is necessary is to think of some natural objects like the sun, the birds, the flowers or the trees, mention them briefly in the first verse and then in the second verse draw a sort of analogy or comparison between the natural object and something to do with love. The verses can be extremely short, since in this class of music the composer is allowed to spread himself indefinitely and can eke out the tiniest words.