First we will write a humorous lyric for the Stage, bearing in mind, of course, the peculiar foibles, idiosyncrasies and whims of Mr. Alf Bubble, who will sing it (we hope). Mr. Bubble's principal source of fun is the personal appearance of his fellow-citizens. Whenever a new character comes on the stage he makes some remark about the character's "face." Whenever he does this the entire audience rolls about on its seat, and cackles and gurgles and wipes its eyes, and repeats in a hoarse whisper, with variations of its own, the uproarious phrasing of Mr. Bubble's remark. If Mr. Bubble says, "But look at his _face_!" the audience, fearful lest its neighbours may have missed the cream of the thing, splutters hysterically in the intervals of eye-wiping and coughing and choking and sneezing, "He said, '_What_ a face!'" or "He said, '_Did_ you _see_ his face?'" or "He said, 'Is it a _face_?'" All this we have got to remember when we are writing a lyric for Mr. Bubble. Why Mr. Bubble of all people should find so much mirth in other men's faces I can't say, but there it is. If we write a song embodying this great joke we may be certain that it will please Mr. Bubble; so we will do it. Somebody, I think, will have made some slighting remark about the Government, and that will give the cue for the first verse, which will be political. We will begin:-- Thompson .... I don't know why the people in humorous lyrics are always called Thompson (or Brown), but they are. Thompson, being indigent, Thought that it was time he went Into England's Parliament, To earn his daily bread .... That is a joke against Parliament, you see--Payment of Members and all that; it is good. At the same time it is usual to reserve one's jokes for the chorus. The composer, you see, reserves his tune for the chorus, and, if the author puts too much into the verse, there will be trouble between their Unions. Now we introduce the _face-motif_:-- Thompson's features were not neat; When he canvassed dahn our street Things were said I won't repeat, And my old moth-ah said:-- This verse, you notice, is both in metre and rhyme; I don't know how that has happened; it ought not to be. Now we have the chorus:-- "Oh, Mr. Thompson, It isn't any good; I shouldn't like to vote for you, So I won't pretend I should; I know that you're the noblest Of all the human race ...." That shows the audience that _face_ is coming very soon, and they all get ready to burst themselves. "I haven't a doubt, if you get in, The Golden Age will soon begin-- But I DON'T LIKE--your FACE." At this point several of the audience will simply slide off their seats on to the floor and wallow about there, snorting. The next verse had better be a love-verse. Thompson wooed a lovely maid Every evening in the shade, Meaning, I am much afraid, To hide his ugly head ....