Look at her, a prisoner of the gutters.
Condemned by every syllable she utters.
This is what the British population
calls an elementary education.
Here them down in Soho square, dropping H's everywhere, speaking English anyway they like.
"You sir, did you go to school?"
"What do you tike me for, a fool?"
No one taught him take instead of tike.
Hear a Yorkshire man or worse, hear a cornish man converse, I'd rather hear a choir singing flat. Chickens cackling in a barn, just like this.
"Garn!"
"Garn, I ask you sir, what sort of noise is that?"
It's "ohh" and "garn" that keep her in her place. Not her wretched clothes and dirty face.
Why can't the English teach their children how to speak. This verbal class distinction by now should be antique. If you spoke as she does, sir instead of the way you do. Why, you might be selling flowers too.
"I beg your pardon."
An Englishman's way of speaking absolutely classifies him. The moment he talks he makes some other Englishman despise him. One common language I'm afraid we'll never get.
Oh, why can't the English learn to.. set a good example to people whose English is painful to your ears. The Scotch and the Irish leave you close to tears. There even are places where English completely disappears.
�In America, they haven't used it for years.� Why can't the English teach
their children how to speak Norwegians learn Norwegian. The Greeks are taught their Greek.
In France, every Frenchman knows his language from "A" to "zed" �The French don't care
what they do, actually, as long as they pronounce it correctly.� Arabians learn Arabian with
the speed of summer lightning. The Hebrews learn it backwards which is absolutely frightening
Use proper English. You're regarded as a freak Oh, why can't the English. Why can't the English learn to speak.
I'm an ordinary man who desires nothing more than just an ordinary chance to live exactly as he likes. And do precisely what he wants. An average man am I, of no eccentric whim. Who likes to live his life free of strife. Doing whatever he thinks is best for him. Just an ordinary man.
But let a woman in your life and your serenity is through. She'll redecorate your home from the cellar to the dome, then go on to the enthralling fun of overhauling you.
Let a woman in your life, and you're up against a wall. Make a plan and you will find she has something else in mind. And so rather than do either you do something else that neither likes at all. You want to talk of Keats or Milton She only wants to talk of love. You go to see a play or ballet. And spend it searching for her glove.
Let a woman in your life, and you invite eternal strife. Let them buy their wedding bands, for those anxious little hands. I'd be equally as willing for a dentist to be drilling. Than to ever let a woman in my life.
I'm a very gentle man. Even tempered and good-natured whom you never hear complain. Who has the milk of human kindness by the quart in every vein. A patient man am I, down to my fingertips. The sort who never could ever would let an insulting remark escape his lips. A very gentle man.
But let a woman in your life, and patience hasn't got a chance. She will beg you for advice Your reply will be concise. And she'll listen very nicely then go out and do precisely what she wants. You are a man of grace and polish who never spoke above a hush. Now all at once you're using language that would make a sailor blush.
Let a woman in your life and you're plunging in a knife. Let the others of my sex. Tie the knot around their necks. I prefer a new edition of the Spanish Inquisition than to ever let a woman in my life.
I'm a quiet-living man who prefers to spend the evenings in the silence of his room. Who likes an atmosphere as restful as an undiscovered tomb. A pensive man am I of philosophic joys. Who likes to meditate contemplate Free from humanity's mad, inhuman noise. Just a quiet-living man.
But let a woman in your life, and your sabbatical is through. In a line that never ends come an army of her friends. Come to jabber and to chatter and to tell her what the matter is with you She'll have a booming boisterous family Who will descend on you en masse. She'll have a large Wagnerian mother with a voice that shatters glass. Let a woman in your life. Let a woman in your life, I shall never let a woman in my life
What in all in heaven can have prompted her to go, after such a triumph
at the ball. What could have depressed her, what could have possessed her? I can't understand
the wretch at all.
�Pickering, why can't a woman be more like a man?�
�I beg your pardon?�
Yes, why can't a woman be more like a man. Men are so honest, so thoroughly square. Eternally noble, historically fair. When you win, we'll always give your back a pat. Why can't a woman be like that.
Why does everyone do what the others do. Can't a woman learn to use her head? Why do they do everything their mothers do? Why don't they grow up like their father instead?
Why can't a woman take after a man? Men are so pleasant, so easy to please. Whenever you're with them you're always at ease. Would you be slighted if I didn't speak for hours? (of course not) Would you be livid if I had a drink or two? (Nonsense!) Would you be wounded if I never sent you flowers (Never) Why can't a woman be like you?
One man in a million may shout a bit. Now and then there's one with slight defects. One, perhaps, whose truthfulness you doubt a bit. But by and large we are a marvelous sex. Why can't a woman take after a man? 'Cause men are so friendly, good-natured and kind. A better companion you never will find. If I were hours late for dinner, would you bellow? (Of course not.) If I forgot your silly birthday, would you fuss? (Nonsense!) Would you complain if I took out another fellow? (Never!) Why can't a woman be like us?
(continued)
"Mrs. Pearce, you're a woman"
Why can't a woman be more like a man. Men are so decent, such regular chaps. Ready to help you through any mishaps. Ready to buck you up whenever you are glum. Why can't a woman be a chum? Why is thinking something women never do, and why is logic never even tried?
Straightening up their hair is all they ever do. Why don't they straighten up the mess that's inside?
Why can't a woman behave like a man. If I was a woman who'd been to a ball, been hailed as a princess by one and by all. Would I start weeping like a bathtub overflowing? Or carry on as if my home were in a tree? Would I run off and never tell me where I'm going? Why can't a woman
be like me?