A Plea for the Veteran.

Otago Witness, Issue 2396, 1 February 1900, Page 67

A Plea for the Veteran.

When you've emptied all your pockets,— when you've giver, up all your cash — When you've finished holding meetings Dy

the score — Will you kindly hark a moment to some sacrilegious irash By a gentleman you'll find to toe a bore I He's an abaent-minded beggar, and his friends declare he's mad, — They say tbey always lake him as they find

They complain he's always talking of the aged, the poor or sad — Of one in Workhouse, Home, or Rest — near you and him ! Duke's son— cook's son — son of God's own kind (Fifty thousand good and true going their hungry way!) Each of 'em eating poverty's crust (and who's to see that they've dmed?) Pass the hat for charity's sake, and pay— pay— pay ! There are girls he married secret, asking no

advising woid, For he knew he wouldn't like it if he did. There's a graveyard old and crowded, where the paupers are interr'd, And a grave by weeds and brambles, well nigh

hid. There's none to miss her or the kid, — there's none soriy she is gone,

For an absent-minded nature God has given

us, But in the workhouse on the hill there's a worker toiling on, — Let vis make the stricken pauper happy like us!

Knave's son- — brave's son — son of a bloomin' Lord, Son of a drunken criminal — it's all the same to-day! Each of 'em eating poverty's crust (and who's to look after their board?) Pass the hat for your credit's sake, and pay — pay — pay!

There are veterans by thousands — far too old to go and fight —

But they've given their very life-blood for the

Queen, And we'll stick 'em in the workhouse, — and we'll grudge 'em every bite

'Cause the man that ought to pay is some-

times mean. He's an absent-minded beggar — but he quickly gave himself —

And he didn't wait to ask the why and where-

fore ; He fought and bled and suffer' d — now he's cast upon the shelf, — So let us make his lot as happy as before!

Duke's heir — cook's heir — Anglo-Saxon and CeltSlum or mansion or pauper's lane — to the Home we convey! Each of them's done his country's work (and whose heart's not going to melt?) Pass the hat for your Tommy's sake, and pay — pay — pay!

Let us manage so as later, — when our Tommy's

growing grey,

He can know — what he'll very gladly hear — That, though he's old and useless, we won't turn him for a day

To the workhouse, — there to end his bright

career. He's an absent-minded beggar — but he won't '■ forget it all," —

And he'll cheer his own son Tommy to the fray,— With the thought that when it's over, in his joy he'll bless us all, — 'Cause we'll watch and help oiir Tommy eveiy day!

Earl's horne — churl's horne — home of a bloomin' mayor (Fitty thousand good and true- going their hungry way!) Each of them's done his country's work (and who is to be your heir?) Pass the hat for the vet'ran's sake, and pay— pay— pay !

— C. J. M.

Dunedin, January, 1900.