THE YARN OF THE WAIMATE "PORKER." —THE LAST OF HIS RACE.

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume II, Issue 114, 18 May 1881, Page 3

THE YARN OF THE WAIMATE "PORKER." — THE LAST OF HIS RACE.

♦ 'Twas on the shores around our coast, Prom Opunake miles a score, That I found in a dell — 'tiß strange to tell— An elderly, gruff old boar. His coat was grizzly, his tusks were long, And bulky and long was he ; And I heard this boar, on the edge of the shore, Recite in the gruffiest key :— " Oh. I am ten million boars, or more, Of various sizes and strains ; And barrows and sows, ten million score, And the whole of t^e pigs on the Plains." And he shewed his tusks, and chumped his jaws, Till 1 really felt afraid : It would not have been wise to show my surprise, And so I simply said : " Oh, elderly boar, 'tis little I know Of the porkers of Waimate ; And I'll eat my hand, if I understand, However you can be : At once ten million boars, or more, Of various sizes and strains, And barrows and sows, ten million score, And the whole of the pigs on the Plains." Then he heaved a sigh, which seemed very nigh As if he were greatly distressed, Then remarked on the weather, pulled himself well together, And thus to me addressed : " 'Twas in the good old days of yore That Waimate porkers abounded ; But 'tis my belief, they've all come to grief, * And this is what makes me confounded. " It's a habit, you see, for us pigs to be In our dispositions carnivorous; And when a mate dies, to save him from flies, And prevent him from being pestiferous, " We eats him, you know, and thus do chow Our tributes of deepest regard ; Thus displaying our senses, save funeral expenses, As well as a waste in pork -lard. " And thus it turns out, that while feeding about, We have all become slowly converted : It being our lot for us all to be shot— A fate which <Sould scarce be averted. " And it's thus come to be, that from we : eating we, Though outwardly seeming but one ; I really embrace the whole of my race — I've explained .to you how it was done. "And I nevergrunts, and I never squeals, And I never lark nor play, But sit and croak, and a single joke I have, which is to say : " Oh, I am ten million boars, or more, Of various sizes and strains; And barrows and sows, ten million score, And the whole of the pigs on the Plains." H R P • May U, 1881.