A Music Hall excursion into Pooter country; there is a similarly themed anecdote about a pair of Liverpool-bought cheeses in "Three men in a boat". Harry Champion had a considerable reputation as a Cockney entertainer in the halls in his lifetime, but his greatest success was posthumous. In August 1965, a cover version of one of his songs (I'm Henery the Eighth, I am) achieved an American Number 1 (Billboard's Hot 100) between The Rolling Stones ((I can't get no) Satisfaction) and Sonny & Cher (I got you, babe).

Lyrics: Fred Leigh

My wife lately bought a Gorgonzola cheese; she saw it in a shop marked "cheap",
She thought that her loving husband it would please, if only til my birthday it would keep;
She locked that cheese up safely in a drawer, a month passed by, or perhaps a little more,
Some friends came on my birthday and the dinner went off "great",
At last the missus put the Gorgonzola on a plate:
Oh! That Gorgonzola cheese, it wasn't over-healthy I suppose;
For our tom-cat fell a corpse upon the mat when the "niff" got up his nose.
Talk about the flavour of the "crackling on the pork!"
Nothing could have been so strong,
As the beautiful effluvia that filled our house when the Gorgonzola cheese went wrong.

My wife felt a bit offended, just because the company exclaimed "Great Scott!"
Declared they'd like to know what animal it was, and asked me if a licence I had got.
The fire went dead clean out, and so did one of my old pals, who then came back with a gun,
Said he "Look out, I'm going to fire; that cheese I mean to kill."
But when he'd smashed it all to bits, it got more lively still:
Oh! That Gorgonzola cheese, it wasn't over-healthy I suppose;
For our tom-cat fell a corpse upon the mat when the "niff" got up his nose.
Talk about the flavour of the "crackling on the pork!"
Nothing could have been so strong,
As the beautiful effluvia that filled our house when the Gorgonzola cheese went wrong.

When those bits had done a waltz about the place at "Touch" they soon began to play.
But when two pieces down the passage had a race, I thought I'd got the hydrophobia.
We burned pastilles but lor', they did no good, destroy that cheese we thought we never should,
But when someone began to puff a good old "penny smoke",
The Gorgonzola cried "I'm done. It's time for me to croak":
Oh! That Gorgonzola cheese, it wasn't over-healthy I suppose;
For our tom-cat fell a corpse upon the mat when the "niff" got up his nose.
Talk about the flavour of the "crackling on the pork!"
Nothing could have been so strong,
As the beautiful effluvia that filled our house when the Gorgonzola cheese went wrong.