The Drum Beat/Number 10/Hurrah for the Ladies!

HURRAH FOR THE LADIES!

 Of all stupid bores,
 Don't you think, Dr. Storrs,
 Editorial chores
  Are the most so?

 You must be so discreet
 In your Editor's seat,
 For fear The Drum-Beat
  May not suit folks?

 And as each thinks he's smart
 In the delicate art
 Of taking a part
  In such business,

 You have loads by the bale
 Of jokes that are stale,
 Sent you by each mail,
  (And by female!)

 You have essayists crude,
 And poets who've woo'd
 The muses, and rued
  Their rejection!

 No rest for your feet,
 In hall or in street;
 At each sound of Drum-Beat
  You're expected

 To parade, in full dress,
 Fourteen 'columns' or less!
 How your duties must 'press'
  On your mind, Sir!

 No time can you spare
 For mere every-day care!
 Each common affair
  Gets the go-by!

 (I strongly suspect
 Your Wife must object;
 Or is she quite wrecked
  On "Comittees?")

 But though care can't be drowned,
 And while Drum-Beat shall sound,
 Uniform-ly you're found
  'In fatigue dress,'

 When once more you possess
All the blessings of peace,
You'll forget all but this:—
  That you've beaten!