Billy Bennett

Billy Bennett Poems

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up
In the Malamute Saloon;
An American guy from Peckham Rye
...

Three cheers for the postman, the jolly old postman,
With letters for Smith, Brown and Kelly,
A load in his sack, a hump on his back,
...

3.

Nell was a collier's daughter,
innocent, sweet seventeen.
Shall I tell you the story of Nellie?
Yes, tell us it, Bill, if it's clean.
...

There's a little sallow idle man lives north of Waterloo,
And he owns the toughest music hall in town.
...

Give me the life of a huntsman,
It wants a lot of beating...
I know, I've served my apprenticeship
With that famous hunter, ' Keating.'
...

You ask about these wrinkles,
These wrinkles I have on my brow,
If you'll give me your kind applause, sir
...

In the street of the thousand lanterns
The East of Limehouse Reach
Lived a bland Chinee, who loved the sea
For he was a son of the beach.
...

'Twas Christmas Day in the cookhouse
And the place was clean and tidy
The soldiers were eating their pancakes...
...

They say a man's known by the company he keeps
I think that a lie and a scandal
'Cos I've mixed with company I didn't expect
...

'Twas a dirty night, 'twas a dirty trick
When our ship turned over in the Atlantic
It was the schooner Hesperous - we all lay asleep in our
...

Half a league, half a league, football league, 0nward.
In fifteen char-a-bancs rode the 600.
...

Nell was a bookmaker's daughter;
On the day she was born there was trouble:
In addition to Nell came a sister as well -
...

Everybody knows me, Dr. Goosegrease, M.D.
All the best paying patients, I've got 'em.
Harley Street's my abode, No. 6 down the road,
...

The British Empire has a flag that flies throughout the World
And no power on earth can pull it down
...

I'm a lover of night-life in London
When I start I can go pretty fast
I've blotted me copy book I must admit
...

Have I had this coffee shop long, Sir, dishing out coffee and tea?
Ever since Big Ben was a wrist watch and the Thames that was as dry as me.
...

If you ever go to Dampoor by the Dampoor slow express
Be careful how you travel - try to fix
To start upon your journey from platform one or two
...

The Great White North is calling- s'hosh! it's got a lot to say-
Let us listen while it cracks its frozen jokes.
...

I've served in the French Foreign Legion
It's Hell! The life couldn't be harder,
For it's war to the knife as you run for your life
...

A gambler born was young Basil
His finances were all of a lather
A wayward boy, but his mother’s joy
And likewise, the son of his father.
...

Billy Bennett Biography

William Robertson Russell Bennett DCM MM, better known as Billy Bennett, (1887 – June 30, 1942) was a British comedian who specialised in parodies of dramatic monologues and was billed as almost a gentleman. Bennett's father, John Bennett, was the partner of Robert Martell in a music hall slapstick comedy act but Glasgow-born Billy chose not to follow him immediately onto the stage, instead enlisting in the army. After a brief start as a comedian, Bennett re-enlisted at the start of World War I, enjoying a distinguished career in the 16th Lancers and winning the Distinguished Conduct Medal, Military Medal and the Belgian Croix de guerre. Only in 1919 did he begin his stage career in earnest, appearing with Mark Lupino and in Fred Karno's army. Bennett's favourite act was to mock and parody the dramatic monologues of the turn of the century. Perhaps best known is The Green Tie on the Little Yellow Dog, his take on The Green Eye of the Yellow God. As of 1930, he adapted his act to radio, appearing with James Carew and Albert Whelan. He appeared with Whelan on stage as the black-faced cross-talkers Alexander and Mose. Bennett gave his final performance in Blackpool, just a few weeks before his death.)

The Best Poem Of Billy Bennett

The Shooting Of Dan Mcgrew

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up
In the Malamute Saloon;
An American guy from Peckham Rye
Was playing a ragtime tune.

And back of the bar, in a poker game,
Sits dangerous Dan McGrew;
Watching his luck is his lady love,
The lady that's known as 'Loo'

Now Dangerous Dan was a dirty old man,
And he worked underground all alone-
Digging for dope, scrounging for soap,
Pumping for Eau-de-Cologne.

He claimed to be Mother Seigel's son
Vouch for that statement I can't,
But I think he was born on a liner
Whilst travelling abroad with his aunt.

Now Dan was a gink that could mop any drink
From laudanum to unsweetened gin;
You can tell he was tough, he'd eat salmon and stuff
Without even opening the tin.

Just picture a real tough son of a gun,
A man that could fight any two,
With hair on his chest where the birds used to nest,
And that's dangerous Dan McGrew.

Out in the snow it was fifty below
And would give a brass monkey the croup,
When in came a stranger, dismounted, on foot,
Disguised as a slice of pea soup.

He looked like a man with one foot in the grave,
You could see at a glance he was queer,
For he made a rude noise with the back of his neck,
And bubbles came out of his ear.

In a football shirt that was glazed with dirt
He looked strange in his evening dress clothes;
Icicles hung from his eybrows,
And bicycles hung from his nose.

'Who is this man?' said Dangerous Dan,
And Loo with a voice like a crow
Said: 'I know the stiff, it's Buffalo Biff,
And he's running a Wild West show.'

At the cocoanut shies, Dan McGrew shut his eyes,
He picked up a ball made of lead,
He let fly at a nut, but it bounced in a rut
And hit a bald man's nut instead.

The cannon ball bounced off the bald fellow's nut
And bang went a parrafin lamp,
Set fire to the bearded lady's moustache
And up went the whole of the camp.

In less than a second, or longer than that,
Pandemonium started to reign:
The skeleton slipped up the elephant's trunk,
And the fat lady slipped down a drain.

Dan McGrew fired a shot at a wild leopard's spot
(I couldn't say which spot he chose):
It bounced back on his chest, his braces went west
And down came his how-do-you-do's.

The girl with tattoos had a fit of the blues,
For they'd scorched all the paint off her chest;
A man with a hose started pinching her clothes,
Singing ''Everything's done for the best.'

There were Esquimaux, half a mo's, Ikey mo's, too,
Greek freaks and pip-squeaks as well;
Chinese, and knock-knees, and buzza-bazooks,
That only a mother could tell.

White men and black, with no shirts to their back,
That morning looked tattered and torn;
One poor little Hindu, he just made his skin do
The same as the day he was born.

With a heart like a rock, And a boot full of sock,
Buffalo Biff started off with his crew;
Though the journey's a big'un, they all walked to Wigan
Through the shooting of Dan McGrew.

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