THE IRREPRESSIBLE AMY B.

Observer, Volume XXIX, Issue 35, 15 May 1909, Page 23

THE IRREPRESSIBLE AMY B.

A LUGUBRIOUS LAMENT,

Oh, listen to my ..earful lay, And kindly wipe a weep away, But watch, please, that you do aot say " Amy Bock." For, oh, that name has got me down — Gives rise to a ferocious frown — This name obsesses all the town : Amy Bock. The daily papers nil up space By reproducing Amy's face. And ev'rywhere these words you trace : " Amy Bock." They publish, with ecstatic glee, Long yarns about her pedigree * Tlieir whole contents appear to bo Amy Bock.

They serve up columns ev'ry day, Detailing Amy's winning way, The*-* metaphorically flay Amy Bock. Her pa.st career, in lurid light, They place before the public's eight, They don't at all object to slight Amy Bock.

Tho' thrones may totter, empires full, '1 no' pestilence abroad may crawl, The dailies put before them all Amy Bock. Tho' weighty cablegrams intrude, The dailies think it would be rude, Because of such things to exclude Amy Bock.

When in the car you chance to ride, It makes you feel like homicide To hear folk mutter loud with pride :

" Amy Bock !" And even while you pay your fare, The conductor, with a far-off stare, Exclaims, as you are well aware : " Amy Bock."

Again, in desperation say You go, perchance, to see the play, The "pro's." drag in, in subtle way,

Amy Bock. So there you find no rest nor cure, It adds to pains that you endure To find they've named the overture " Amy Bock."

To seek relief we'll say, maybe, You go a-fishing on the sea, To banish with celerity

Amy Bock. 'Tis unavailing all the same, You feel — well, anything but tame To meet a yacht that owns the name " Amy Bock."

In frantic frenzy 'neath the strain, You go, to save your tott'ring brain, A modest stimulant to drain —

(Amy Bock !) Alas ! you feel you're doubly banned To find ('tis more than you can stand) That they've re-named your fav'rite brand 'Amy Bock' "

You go to buy a. Sunday tie, The shopman looks you in the eye, And answers : " Yessir ; will you try

Amy Bock ?" And with insinuating smile ' He says "It is the latest style ; We've named it, as 'tis free from guile, ' Amy Bock.' " When travelling on the railway train You find 'tis absolutely vain To try and banish from your brain Amy Bock. For as the wheels go round aad round, And even in the piston's pound, You hear but one incessant sound, " Amy Bock." Again, for sweet relief to search You pay a visit to a church, Attempting to leave in the lurch Amy Bock. Alas I you find no antidote, Because the organ's ev'ry note Drones out the words, as if by rote : " Amy* Bock."

Again in horror off you fly, With murder gleaming 'in your eye. There' d be fierce deeds if you got nigh Amy Bock. Then on your homeward way you steer, But when you get there, sad and drear, These fatal words fall on your ear : " Amy Bock." The very household cat can do Nought else but sit and sadly mew, Yowling, or so it seems to you, " Amy Bock." And in the rooster's scornful crow There seems to be that name you know Too well— that name that makes you low : Amy Bock.

You're sitting quietly on your own, Thinking o'er grief with piteous

moan, When loud resounds the telephone — (Amy Bock v) "Who's there V in fearful ire you shout ; A voice replies : '* I say, no doubt You've heard the latest news about Amy Bock ?"

"Ring off !" you savagely reply. Says sweet young Central" : "Oh !

oh, my ! Your language is enough to try Amy Bock ! You really mustn't talk so. Hush ! You're making all the ' Central r

blush." AVith muttered curse away you brash Amy Bock.

The town clock's chimes, when out they ring, Cause you to swear like anything, Because it seems as if they sing " Amy Bock." And, talk of sin"' 'twon't be long Before we'll get (altho' 'tis wrong) The very latest comic song : " Amy Bock."

And Amy's face and figure failOn picture postcards ev'ry where Are spread a I) road • you cannot scare

Amy Bock. Tne postman calls. You think he's got Important letters. c has not. 'Tis but a postcard — oh, great Scott ! Amy Bock !

On land and sea, on earth and air, Yes, all creation ev'ry where, Is saying — to that fact you'd swear — " Amy Bock." And in the rustle of the trees, And borne upon the balmy breeze Is but one sound (which doesn't please) "Amy Bock." From Cape Maria to the Bluff The only talk (and -'ite enough) Is all the same unnerving stuff — Amy Bock. Where'er you vend your weary feet,. You get this same most doubtful treat. Oh ! nothing that you know oan beat Amy Bock. Oh ! legislation should be framed Without delay, or, so 'tis claimed, To quick suppress this subject named Amy Bock. If not, 'tis easy to foresee That unto all eternity This only topic there will be : Amy Bock. .

A mule can kick both hard and quick, And when you least expect it ; A cold may rail, and often will Defy you to reject it I But Woods you know some time ago, And after years of thinking, Invented his Great PkppebmintiCuke, Which stops all colds like winking.