BOER AND BORE.
(For the Post.) War and Boer, boot and bore — with, its information treat What the papers can't supply us with, the man can on the street ; If you call to make a purchase in a shop by day or night. The man behind the counter has some news, about the fight. When they paste it on the window — the latest from the war — The crowd will block the thoroughfare — while the argufying bore Will express himself in language which they don't put in the Post, "'Cause' Mr. Bully ain't done what he's waiting for to boast." &nd the ostentatious aristocrat, and the tailor-dodging toff, Will volunteer to go to war. When they find they can't get off They aay they're disappointed ! — alas! thab it is so ; For the Boers would never "miss" them like their creditors, you know. The ancient hoary Britisher with his noisy warlike breath \ / Regrets that he has grown too old to be a Dutchman's death, But he blows up Boer battalions with the bravery of his brain, And when the beer is boss within you couldn't count the slain. The lady — our sweet neighbour— and her daughters may be seen From any hour till midnight playing a "Soldiers of the Queen." Since they sent the First Contingent — well, our friendship's not so thick, For I hammered on their wall one night with a rather hea^y stick. If you happen to be sleeping when your mate comes home at night He'll disturb your peaceful slumber just to talk about the fight, For he has the fever of the war — and it's deuced bad on him — But that fever could be cured if he went to Doctor Jim. In his sleep he'll talk of Dutchmen with bullets he has bored, And how he pricked old Joubert in the optic with a sword ; He'll slash around their trenches till there's nothing left but bone — But he's very glad when he wakes up to find that he's at home. And that patriotic picnic they're a-hold-ing in the Park Has aroused the photographic bove, with his little wooden ark ; And the man who writes heroics is complaining of his nose Since the Editor of the Evening Post to the occasion rose. Tho' Seddon is a talking man, sometimes a deed he'll do, And if you're good he'll send away Contingent Number Two ; While we march them up and down the • town with half-a-dozen bands Mr. Dick expands a chest that he can't reach with his hands. (Epilogue.) fou have made the Park historic, you will make your country proud, The world will talk, dear* boys in buff, about your deeds, aloud ; But to win your country's blessings, before you leave its shores Take King Richard with you — and shoot our local bores. , — Henrico.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume LIX, Issue 11, 13 January 1900, Page 4 (Supplement)
Word Count
465BOER AND BORE. Evening Post, Volume LIX, Issue 11, 13 January 1900, Page 4 (Supplement)
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