A SHRIEK FROM NASEBY

Dunstan Times, Issue 2092, 27 August 1901, Page 5

A SHRIEK FROM NASEBY

A usually esteemed correspondent at Naseby, who really should have known better, has sent us the following effusion. We do not altogether see the point, but he assures us that our leaders will, and on that assurance we inflict it on them without further apology, it. stalls THE MANiOTOTO JOCKEY CLUB: Oil OlUl FKED On the Gth August; in the Lrs-t year of the globus reign of our liege Lord and Sovereign Ling Edward VII., there was cought in a smail and dilapidated room in the hamlet of Naseby a long and glorious encounter between the Turf Purifiers and a pai ty known as the Manager's Push. By packing the meeting the latter came out on top. The Drama having ended—then follows THE EPILOGUE The e's a little thin faced man, which is F; ed. Smokes the longest pipe lie can—our Fred. When the Club a protest hears he can talk for twenty years With a smile—including cats—can't yer Fred 1 When Ernest's fast asleep, look lo Fred ! vVhcn Dawson's very de p watch.Fred. 'E's got divvies m bis coat whuh lie got from off the tote. And he'll sometimes play ' the goat. Brother Fred. When he's holding uu a " pair," plucky Fred, lie's been rarely known to swear'as Fred. When Jack who's nearly blind did what Em est calls unkind, By contriving threes to find, poor Fred 1 •• Lest the meeting should prove slow,' whispered Fred, •' V\ e Lad b. Iter pack the show,' gigg'ed Fred. •'For 1 always have been boss, and I'm a bit hfiaid of Moss — Besides, I can't stand Coss. : ' General Fred. 'We'd better get iid Guff," says Fred. • ii.'sa hanih piece of stuff," pondered Fred. '"Though he's aged he's going strong, but he mustn't talk 100 loi g, 'Cos he's sometimes in the wrong, along with Fred.'' '.Now, 'Erdman's got the pip," smiled Fred, " Cos this blooming show I skip," said Fred-. " Lo. k, he's gone to get some air, and to find the ' millionaire,' But he'll never moie be mayor," chuckled Fred. " Oh, they'll uct a naslv jar." Cunning Fed! ' When they find I've cot Bob Can.' Clever Fred ! "Yes, j "11 (lo some ' ringirg in,'and I've Cutlcn on the siring, A'on't it make I lie beggars sing, - ' murmured bred, So here's to Fred, our brolhei, Little Fred, Fred, Fro;. •' lie's loiter than a mother, talking Fred, Fred, Fred, When he's talking through his nose and lie's on bis Sunday clothes, 1 hen evervthiug he knows —don't yer Fred?