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  • Sarah
    Gus is the cat at the theatre door
    His name, as I ought to have told you before
    Is really Asparagus, but that's a fuss to pronounce
    That we usually call him just Gus
    His coat's very shabby, he's thin as a rake
    And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake
    For he was in his youth quite the smartest of cats
    But no longer a terror to mice or to rats
    For he isn't the cat that he was in his prime
    Though his name was quite famous, he says, in his time
    And whenever he joins his friends at their club
    (Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub)
    He loves to regale them, if someone else pays
    With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days
    For he once was a star of the highest degree
    He has acted with Irving, he's acted with Tree
    And he likes to relate his success on the halls
    Where the gallery once gave him seven cat calls
    But his grandest creation as he loves to tell
    Was Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
    Sir John
    I have played in my time every possible part
    And I used to know seventy speeches by heart
    I'd extemporize backchat, I knew how to gag
    And I knew how to let the cat out of the bag
    I knew how to act with my back and my tail
    With an hour of rehearsal, I never could fail
    I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts
    Whether I took the lead, or in character parts
    I have sat by the bedside of poor little Nell
    When the curfew was rung then I swung on the bell
    In the pantomime season, I never fell flat
    And I once understudied **** Whittington's cat
    But my grandest creation, as history will tell
    was Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
    Sarah
    Then, if someone will give him a toothful of gin
    He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne
    At a Shakespeare performance he once walked on pat
    When some actor suggested the need for a cat
    Sir John
    And I say now these kittens, they do not get trained
    As we did in the days when Victoria reigned
    They never get drilled in a regular troupe
    And they think they are smart just to jump through a hoop
    Sarah
    And he says as he scratches himself with his claws
    Sir John
    Well the theatre is certainly not what is was
    These modern productions are all very well
    But there's nothing to equal from what I hear tell
    That moment of mystery when I made history
    As Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
  • Sarah
    Gus is the cat at the theatre door
    His name, as I ought to have told you before
    Is really Asparagus, but that's a fuss to pronounce
    That we usually call him just Gus
    His coat's very shabby, he's thin as a rake
    And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake
    For he was in his youth quite the smartest of cats
    But no longer a terror to mice or to rats
    For he isn't the cat that he was in his prime
    Though his name was quite famous, he says, in his time
    And whenever he joins his friends at their club
    (Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub)
    He loves to regale them, if someone else pays
    With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days
    For he once was a star of the highest degree
    He has acted with Irving, he's acted with Tree
    And he likes to relate his success on the halls
    Where the gallery once gave him seven cat calls
    But his grandest creation as he loves to tell
    Was Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
    Sir John
    I have played in my time every possible part
    And I used to know seventy speeches by heart
    I'd extemporize backchat, I knew how to gag
    And I knew how to let the cat out of the bag
    I knew how to act with my back and my tail
    With an hour of rehearsal, I never could fail
    I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts
    Whether I took the lead, or in character parts
    I have sat by the bedside of poor little Nell
    When the curfew was rung then I swung on the bell
    In the pantomime season, I never fell flat
    And I once understudied **** Whittington's cat
    But my grandest creation, as history will tell
    was Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
    Sarah
    Then, if someone will give him a toothful of gin
    He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne
    At a Shakespeare performance he once walked on pat
    When some actor suggested the need for a cat
    Sir John
    And I say now these kittens, they do not get trained
    As we did in the days when Victoria reigned
    They never get drilled in a regular troupe
    And they think they are smart just to jump through a hoop
    Sarah
    And he says as he scratches himself with his claws
    Sir John
    Well the theatre is certainly not what is was
    These modern productions are all very well
    But there's nothing to equal from what I hear tell
    That moment of mystery when I made history
    As Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell