GUS: THE THEATRE CAT

Gus is the cat at the theatre door My name, as I ought to have told you before Is really Asparagus, but that's such a fuss to pronounce That they usually call me just Gus My oat's very shabby I'm thin as a rake And I suffer from palsy which makes my paw shake Yet I was in my youth, quite the smartest of cats But no longer a terror to mice or to rats For I'm not the cat that I was in my prime Though my name was quite famous, they say, in my time And whenever I join my friends at their club Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub I love to regale them, if someone else pays With anecdotes drawn from my palmiest days For I once was a star of the highest degree I have acted with Irving I acted with Tree And I like to relate my success of the halls Where the gallery once gave us seven cat calls But my grandest creation as I love to tell Was Firefrorefiddle the Field of the Fell Then, if someone will give me a toothful of gin I will tell how I once played a part in “East Lynne” In a Shakespeare performance I once walked on pat When some actor suggested the need for a cat And I say now these kittens, they do not get trained As we did in the days when Victoria reigned They do not get drilled in a regular troupe And they think they are smart just to jump through the hoop And I say as I scratch myself with my claws Well, the theatre is certainly not what it 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