OTAGO WITNESS CHRISTMAS NUMBER.

Otago Witness, Issue 2078, 21 December 1893, Page 38

OTAGO WITNESS CHRISTMAS NUMBER.

OUR CHKISTMAS BOX.

RHYMES, PARODIES, AND JINGLES ANENT THE WITNESS SPECIAL.

(Strung Together for the Witness Christina,} Number of 1893.) By TOM L. MILLS.

The Motto : Read, Learn, and Inwardly

Digest. He who doth this Witness scan, Will find good food for his brain pan. He who doth these pages read, Will be a learned man indeed. Whoever doth its words digest In many ways will find he's blest. And as he runs and reads will learn That time well spent doth wisdom earn.

If the weary, Seeking rest. To these columns fly When the clouds Are soft-tinted, 'Twill solace supply. In the calm. Twilight hour They give rest profound JTorthe weary And tired Stretched on the ground, Sweet music Gives us rest — I grant you're right ; But the words Soft and gentle Give more delight. So the sweets Of these columns Are sweeter to him Who wants rest Prom all trouble

In shadows dim. In Marvellous Melbourne, no beat of the drums Gives voice to the cry of a " C4ent of the Slums," But a woman it is who the record hath made Of a gentleman even in life's lowest grade. 'Tis a Bell tolls the tale— and sound is its tone— Of " Arita's Vengeance, or the Wonder Stone." In " Castle Ludlow, or Thrown Away," The reader's will can have no sway ; Whilst from the page one cannot turn Till you hear the " Curse of A. Hepburn." How oft in these columns the Colonel has told Of fights with wild beasts and with warriors

bold! But now 'tis a Tragedy— elsewhere an Event, " The Most Mem'rable Christmas of Her Life She

has Spent " A jaw on the Coast surely seldom has wagged So wisely or witty as " Ajor's," when bagged To tell to the Witness (how much may he

boast !) Of hia haps and his mishaps way down on the Coast.

But none can compare With our " Christinas Box " rare, A sketch of the Old Man Range. Or his fancy sketches, Where Billy he fetches— Oh, doesn't he ring on the change ! " One Touch of Nature," we are told, Doth make the whole world kin ; And " Lucilla" here, 'tis very clear, Makes words speak like " Eugene." How doth the child, both meek and wild, Delight to read good stories— " lied Riding Hood" was very good ; But something new now glories. They wax quite wroth— like older growth— When chestnuts lie before them ; And grumble deep — nay, often weep— < They are no longer children !

At Christmastime you see no crime, And think it is not horrid To let them sip and let them dip Into your columns solid. Why, then, they ask, if such a task Quite to a youngster's heart is— Go to the deuce with all abuse ! Give us the lire that hisses! "On the Fringe of the War" with the boys is galore ! Whilst the girls they are happy perusing Ihe poetic lore, the love they adoreAlways skipping the tales of ill-using. The little folk Can have their joke, Likewise their fairy tales ', How Santa Claus, Without a pause, Flies, rides, or swims like whales. "The Selfish Bear" (Pray, have a care !) May teach a lesson true : That little girls, Or boys with curls, Must nothing naughty do. When prose has the weary one tired, And the good things he feels comes too fast, To calm, him and soothe, The wrinkles to smooth, Let him list to the Muse and tho Lyre. To the lilt of the Gentle Andrew (So apart from the sonorous crew). Or of William Watson, A man and a man's son — In these columns they're set out for you. We have, too, our own native songsters, Who sing of this beautiful land, Where joy is abroad, with no jarring chord, And happiness plays on its strand. By " Wych Elm " have the notes oft been struck That have told us of poetic gift, Her we greet at this time as a bird of our clime : May " Wych Elm " our thoughts always lift ! There are others whose notes we list to In the corner for them set apart ; May their merry jingle our senses oft tingle In the solitude dear to our heart.

The critic, too, Without ado, Has roamed about this paper : With view severe, Set in brevier Or minion, cuts his caper. The " Grammatical Errors of Good Writers " Is a theme, oh ! so dear to their pen ! So pray at their views take your sighters, Keep your judgment clear and open. Here doth the busy little We Hover from line to line, Guiding our thought, teaching the taught— This conduct yours, not mine ! If Maiy were an editor, And taught her lamb a rule, To school it surely would not go — Twould learn by editorial. The Witness has been beautified — made good as any lily, And all that isn't 'rigiual is sent to Piccadilly. Thus to suit all readers' taste, with discrimination polished, All articles that didn't suit straightway have been abolished. The editor the pages big has purged b3yond a question Of risky situation or indelicate suggestion— In short, this goodly paper suits the fam'ly most completely. The " specials," they are modslled on an intellectual basis, Which, as G. and S. might say, is rough on other races.

FINALE. Up and down our colony, In and out of cities, Look before your money goes— What beats the Witness ? [The End.]