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No. 10 - Song - Mrs. Girdle and Chorus - "I don't know, but I guess."

MIDI File

Mrs. Girdle: I don't say that husbands are all of them bad,
But I don't put very much trust in them;
I've pretty good eyes, as I always have had,
And never let people throw dust in them.
My husband comes over to Paris, says he,
On bus'ness, alone, just for one day,
He never tells me what his bus'ness may be,
Or why it is done on a Sunday!
I found in his pocket a bill for a hat,
And what do you think is the meaning of that?
Well, well, how can I tell?
I am not Sherlock Holmes, I confess,
But I heard him repeat
in his sleep "Marguerite!"
And of course I don't know —
Chorus: Um, um, um, um, um, um!
Mrs. Girdle: But I guess, oh; I guess!
Chorus: Well, well, how can we tell?
Tho' we have an idea, more or less,
Mrs. Girdle: Then he murmur'd at tea
"Oh my little Marie!"
Well, of course I don't know!
Chorus: Well, of course we don't know,
But we guess, oh! we guess.
   
Mrs. Girdle: I've married my girl to an excellent youth,
A lawyer of note is my son-in-law;
Of course he can't always go telling the truth,
For that sort of thing isn't done in law!
He's bound to give legal and private advice
To anyone caring to fee him,
And ladies who some of them look very nice
Are constantly calling to see him!
And when one comes out with her veil off her face,
Perhaps they were only discussing her case.
Well, well, how can I tell?
For her hair's in a bit of a mess,
And when powder I note
On the sleeve of his coat,
Well, of course I don't know —
Chorus: Um, um, um, um, um, um!
Mrs. Girdle: But I guess, oh; I guess!
Chorus: Well, well, how can we tell?
Tho' we have an idea, more or less,
Mrs. Girdle: On the waistcoat he wears
Are some long golden hairs.
Well, of course I don't know!
Chorus: Well, of course we don't know,
But we guess, oh! we guess.
   
Mrs. Girdle: My son-in-law has such a curious way,
In spite of my watching and scolding him;
As soon as it's sunny in April or May,
He's off, and in fact, there's no holding him.
He says that when swallows appear in the sky,
And bluebells are out in the hollow,
He goes for a ramble with nobody by,
A nice little story to swallow!
No doubt you will pick up a bluebell, my friend,
She may be a belle with an e at the end!
Well, well, how can I tell?
He may go after cowslips or cress;
When he walks among trees
There is no one that sees,
So, of course I don't know —
Chorus: Um, um, um, um, um, um!
Mrs. Girdle: But I guess, oh; I guess!
Chorus: Well, well, how can we tell?
Tho' we have an idea, more or less!
Mrs. Girdle: If he's seen after dark
With a dear in the park,
Oh, of course I don't know!
Chorus: Oh, of course we don't know,
But we guess, oh! we guess.
   
Mrs. Girdle: I'm fond of the land and the people of France,
They have such an affable way with them;
I go to their plays if I've ever a chance,
But still I'm not very au fait with them;
I went to one piece I had not seen before,
Just one of their comedy dramas,
The curtain went up — a hotel corridor,
The hero came on in pyjamas!
I thought I was safer in going away,
So if you would like to know more of the play —
Well, well, how can I tell?
Though the piece was a Paris success;
For you see I had gone
When the ladies came on,
So, of course I don't know —
Chorus: Um, um, um, um, um, um!
Mrs. Girdle: But I guess, oh; I guess!
Chorus: Well, well, how can we tell?
Tho' we have an idea, more or less!
Mrs. Girdle: But I hear that the plot
Was a little bit hot,
Well, of course I don't know!
Chorus: Well, of course we don't know,
But we guess, oh! we guess.

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