A Ride In A Omnibus Poem by Aubrey Vincent Beardsley

Of all kinds of conveyances, I think the omnibus
For many little reasons should be voted best by us;
But there are just a few annoyances attendant on a ride
In the very best of íbusses that you ever yet have tried.

First, you get a little huddled with the odorous ìunÈliteî,
Andóunless you are a Socialist, and love with such to meetó
You have most distracting visions of an army of disease,
Or the tortures of an insect, which areówell, not exactly bees.

Thereís the horrible old laundress in a shawl thatís always plaid,
And that low-crowned-hatted gentleman, whom people call a cad,
Then a fat old corduroyed navvy goes a flop into a seat,
With his bargy grimy boots just gently stamping on your feet.

Next a drably little maiden jumps into the omnibus,
With some parcels and a babyósuch a screaming little cuss!
After that a showy shopman smelling strong of scented grease,
Thinks the omnibus his own and tries to make his neighbours squeeze.


Whilst a pert and frowzy damsel, in a jacket trimmed with braid,
Sets up giggling and hummingóoh, she is a modest maid!ó
Then a stout and vulgar woman, quite a mass of rouge and paint,
With her cheap and nasty perfumes almost causes you to faint.

In addition to your neighbourís aggravating little ways,
The confounded public carriage at each street and corner stays,
The conductor then is bawling that ìThey go toóî you know, of courseó
Keeps you waiting for an hour all without the least remorse.


To conclude my little poem, I would simply just remark,
That it is not exactly pleasant when you have to disembark,
As youíre stepping out, the vehicle that very moment starts,
And in the mud you find yourself amongst a score of carts.