T'was a long time ago,
Come next Friday,
That Simon Sebastian Snoot,
Set out one fine day,
to enlist in, The Hundred and Thirtieth Foot.
Now a handsome young soldier was Simon,
the pride of the ladies for miles.
With a pair of the duckiest whiskers
and one of those dentifrice smiles.
Now Simon was proud of his whiskers,
he would comb them while going to bed
and secretly rub them with onions,
to cause them to flourish and spread.
and the longer they grew and more glossy, a sort of a gingery shade,
the sergeants got jealous, a low lot of fellows,
and Simon was checked on parade.
"Say, whats all that stuff?
That seaweed which grows on your face?
It may be allright in the Navy,
but here it is quite out of place!
We have'nt got room for a soldier
who doesnt look tidy and neat,
so get back to barracks, my hearty,
and shave off those feathers, tout de suite!"
"My pardon", said Simon, saluting,
"but really I'm bound to refuse,
these whiskers of mine are expensive,
they cost me a lot in shampoos!"
They're the pride and delight of the army,
these wonderful fringes of mine,
and sooner than lose them, dear sergeant,
I think I'd prefer to resign!
So the sergeant he sent for the captain,
who stormed at the subborn recruit,
"Why, that's not a beard, it's an ambush,
come out of the undergrowth, Snoot!"
Now Simon was hard and resented,
the insult that was cast on his face,
"Your remarks, Sir, are uncalled for,
unkindly and quite out of place!"
So the captain he sent for the Colonel,
who stuttered and stammered and swore,
the colonel used language infernal,
and stomped to and fro on the floor.
"Come out of the bushes!" he bellowed,
with adjectives common and coarse,
"You Hairy Gorilla, arrest him!
and shave off that fungus by force!"
Now Simon went down on his marrows,
and cried with a pitiful moan,
"Oh, put me in clink for a fortnight,
but leave my whiskers alone!
For think how they'd help a poor soldier,
in keeping his chest nice and warm,
and when we're told to take cover,
they help me weather the storm!"
"The enemy may think I'm a gross bush,
or maybe a bundle of hay,
oh, take my Victoria Cross, Sir!
but leave my Whiskers I pray!"
But the Colonel was harder than iron,
and cried with a terrible shout,
"You'll have them shaved off,
or by God I'll have you and your whiskers drummed out!
So the next morning Simon paraded,
and out of the army was packed,
with no where to go and no money,
but still with his whiskers intact.
"I'll go the the workhouse, where board and lodging are free,
but stay, here's a travelling circus,
a bearded lady I'll be!
So he went to the circus proprietor,
and told him his tale with a sob,
and curious fate, too strange to relate,
the circus man gave him a job!
In a second hand shirt and a jumper,
and a couple of pink petticoats,
Simon crept into his tent which he shared with,
a pair of performing goats.
And when the moonlight shown down on his whiskers,
for which he made such a fight,
the goats thought they were a new kind of hay /
and chewed them all off at night!
Come next Friday,
That Simon Sebastian Snoot,
Set out one fine day,
to enlist in, The Hundred and Thirtieth Foot.
Now a handsome young soldier was Simon,
the pride of the ladies for miles.
With a pair of the duckiest whiskers
and one of those dentifrice smiles.
Now Simon was proud of his whiskers,
he would comb them while going to bed
and secretly rub them with onions,
to cause them to flourish and spread.
and the longer they grew and more glossy, a sort of a gingery shade,
the sergeants got jealous, a low lot of fellows,
and Simon was checked on parade.
"Say, whats all that stuff?
That seaweed which grows on your face?
It may be allright in the Navy,
but here it is quite out of place!
We have'nt got room for a soldier
who doesnt look tidy and neat,
so get back to barracks, my hearty,
and shave off those feathers, tout de suite!"
"My pardon", said Simon, saluting,
"but really I'm bound to refuse,
these whiskers of mine are expensive,
they cost me a lot in shampoos!"
They're the pride and delight of the army,
these wonderful fringes of mine,
and sooner than lose them, dear sergeant,
I think I'd prefer to resign!
So the sergeant he sent for the captain,
who stormed at the subborn recruit,
"Why, that's not a beard, it's an ambush,
come out of the undergrowth, Snoot!"
Now Simon was hard and resented,
the insult that was cast on his face,
"Your remarks, Sir, are uncalled for,
unkindly and quite out of place!"
So the captain he sent for the Colonel,
who stuttered and stammered and swore,
the colonel used language infernal,
and stomped to and fro on the floor.
"Come out of the bushes!" he bellowed,
with adjectives common and coarse,
"You Hairy Gorilla, arrest him!
and shave off that fungus by force!"
Now Simon went down on his marrows,
and cried with a pitiful moan,
"Oh, put me in clink for a fortnight,
but leave my whiskers alone!
For think how they'd help a poor soldier,
in keeping his chest nice and warm,
and when we're told to take cover,
they help me weather the storm!"
"The enemy may think I'm a gross bush,
or maybe a bundle of hay,
oh, take my Victoria Cross, Sir!
but leave my Whiskers I pray!"
But the Colonel was harder than iron,
and cried with a terrible shout,
"You'll have them shaved off,
or by God I'll have you and your whiskers drummed out!
So the next morning Simon paraded,
and out of the army was packed,
with no where to go and no money,
but still with his whiskers intact.
"I'll go the the workhouse, where board and lodging are free,
but stay, here's a travelling circus,
a bearded lady I'll be!
So he went to the circus proprietor,
and told him his tale with a sob,
and curious fate, too strange to relate,
the circus man gave him a job!
In a second hand shirt and a jumper,
and a couple of pink petticoats,
Simon crept into his tent which he shared with,
a pair of performing goats.
And when the moonlight shown down on his whiskers,
for which he made such a fight,
the goats thought they were a new kind of hay /
and chewed them all off at night!
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