There’s a famous seaside place called Blackpool
That’s noted for fresh air and fun
And Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son
A fine little lad were young Albert
All dressed in his best, quite a swell
He’d a stick with an ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle;
The finest that Woolworth’s could sell
They didn’t think much to the ocean
The waves they were piddlin’ and small
There were no wrecks and nobody drownded
‘Fact, nothin’ to laugh at at all!
So, seeking for further amusement
They paid, and went into the zoo
Where they’d lions and tigers and camels
And cold ale and sandwiches, too
There were one great big lion called Wallace
Whose nose was all covered with scars;
He lay in a som-no-lent posture
With the side of ‘is face on the bars
Now Albert ‘ad ‘eard about lions-
‘Ow they was ferocious and wild;
To see lion lyin’ so peaceful
Just didn’t seem right to the child
So straightway the brave little feller
Not showin’ a morsel of fear
Took ‘is stick with the ‘orse’s ‘ead ‘andle
And stuck it in Wallace’s ear
You could see that the lion din’t like it
For givin’ a kind of a roll
‘E pulled Albert inside the cage with ‘im
And swallered the little lad – ‘ole!
Now Mother ‘ad seen this occurrence
And not knowin’ what to do next
She ‘ollered “Yon lion’s et Albert!”
An’ Father said “Ee, I am vexed.”
They complained to an animal keeper
Who said “My, wot a nasty mis’ap;
Are you sure it’s your boy ‘e’s eaten?”
Pa said, “Am I sure? There’s ‘is cap!”
The manager ‘ad to be sent for;
‘E came and ‘e said “Wot’s to-do?”
Ma said “Yon lion’s et Albert
And ‘im in ‘is Sunday clothes, too!”
Father said “Right’s right, young feller-
I think it’s a shame and a sin
To ‘ave our son et by a lion
And after we paid to come in.”
The manager wanted no trouble;
He took out his purse right away
Sayin’ “‘Ow much to settle the matter?”
Pa said “Wot do you usually pay?”
But Mother ‘ad turned a bit awkward
When she saw where ‘er Albert ‘ad gone
She said “No, someone’s got to be summonsed!”
So that was decided upon
And off they all went to p’lice station
In front of a Magistrate chap;
They told what ‘ad ‘appened to Albert
And proved it by showing ‘is cap
The Magistrate gave ‘is opinion
That no one was really to blame
And ‘e said that ‘e ‘oped the Ramsbottoms
Would ‘ave further sons to their name
At that Mother got proper blazin’:
“And thank you, sir, kindly,” said she-
“Wot, spend all our lives raisin’ children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!”