How we Put Them in Their Place.

Air "Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes."

Nigh a hundred years ago.
We had men to run the show,
In their titivating way.
And of course the womenfolk
Weren't allowed to swear or smoke,
Only honour and obey.
Then, like Kaa in Kipling's Jungle,
Sprang the War, and what a bungle
Of it all the stern sex made.
So the She Club at the College
Ceased to scrub and stir their porridge,
And their slogan on parade
Was: Come, won't you come to Parliament?
Come and teach them why they're sent.
So the women won the war,
And our Lady Nance Astor
Was the first to top the poll.
Then Miss Melville had a try,
But the Auckland men turned shy.
Which for Auckland's mighty droll.
Soon an honourable Mrs.
Introduced her Bills with kisses,
Till she had an Act pushed through.
Whereby members of both Houses
Brought their sweethearts or their spouses.
And the call broke out anew:
Come, won't you come to Parliament?
Bring your powder-puffs and scent;
You may get a handsome lover.
Like John Luke or Albert Glover,
if you come to Parliament.
Next, all men must learn to cook—
Mrs. Beeton's their set-book—
page 31 Now you're harping on a durn note,
"Help the country" (which means you);
You've neglected your electorate,
Bunked when things were at their worst—
Gosh, man, you make me expectorate.
Slope! Your whole damned tribe's accursed.