Bustopher Jones: The Cat About Town

Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones
In fact, he's remarkably fat
He doesn't haunt pubs - he has eight or nine clubs
For he's the St. James's Street Cat!

He's the cat we all greet as he walks down the street
In his coat of fastidious black
No commonplace mousers have such well-cut trousers
Or such an impeccable back.

In the whole of St. James's the smartest of names is
The name of this Brummel of cats
And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to
By Bustopher Jones in white spats.

My visits are occasional to the Senior Educational
And it is against the rules
For any one cat to belong both to that
And the Joint Superior Schools
For a similar reason when game is in season
I'm found not at Fox's but Blimp's
I am frequently seen at the gay Stage and Screen
Which is famous for winkles and shrimps.

In the season of venison I give my ben'son
To the Pothunter's succulent bones
And just before noon's not a moment too soon
To drop in for a drink at the Drones
When I'm seen in a hurry there's probably curry
At the Siamese or at the Glutton
If I look full of gloom then I've lunched at the Tomb
On cabbage, rice pudding and mutton.

In the whole of St. James's is the smartest of names is
The name of this Brummel of cats
And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to
By Bustopher Jones in white
Bustopher Jones in white
Bustopher Jones in white spats.

So, much in this way passes Bustopher's day
At one club or another he's found
It can be no surprise that under our eyes
He has grown unmistakably round
He's a twenty-five pounder, or I am a bounder
And he's putting on weight everyday
But I'm so well preserved because I've observed
All my life a routine, and I'd say
I am still in the prime, I shall last out my time
That's the word from the stoutest of cats.

It must and it shall be spring in Pall Mall
While Bustopher Jones wears white
Bustopher Jones wears white
Bustopher Jones wears white spats!