Parlimentary Musin’s.

Saturday Advertiser, Volume III, Issue 109, 11 August 1877, Page 5

Parlimentary Musin’s.

By Barney Maguire’s Ghost.

Och ! the Governor’s spaches what else id tache US, ■■■'/ i- - - For he’s an orator beyond compare, When to Poneke, the Royal lackey Bids the “ assembled wisdom” to repare. Shure for eddycation we’ll tax the nation, : Though “Bobby’-’ says we shud'call it State— From the world’s economy to Deuteronomy, Faith, he’s the boy Wid the mighty pate.

Shure, the divil a ruction, or native obstruction, From Bfokianga down to the Bluff, But what, the deuce now, if the recluse from Kawau Didn’t start a sneezing, for he’s up to snuff Whin Doctor Pollen comes up a-rollin’, Wid the Clan Donald behind back, And Misther Bowen appears all glowin’ Wid indignation at the Opposition pack.

Thin the Native lands, and the Maori bands, Faith the Doctor will dose them, sure as twenty guns, Wid sugar and kai-kai, till they bawl outkapai, And we’ll have a scramble for the burst-up runs ; From bould Dunadin the news comes spadin’ That burstin’ up now is a la mode, What the Daily Times condims as crimes, Is now urged strongly by Mr A. C. Strode.

In commerce and thrade, faith we’ve progress made, And the Agent-Gineral is still to the fore Wid his immigration and his great spoilation, And we’ve sacked the buffer that was called Passmore ; Shure my heart does ache now, when I come to spake now, Of the hayro bould that has gone to rest, When that ould Manders, who shifts and squanders, Objects, and figures in his level best.

And that bould talker —his name is Walker — (He’s a forester good, like ould Robin Hood) His lave being up, faith we’ll drink a cup To his happy voyage while we’re in the mood; And for purtaction, be me sowl, ’tis vexing To hear the grumbling of the hungry few, But while you’re debating I’ll be retrating, So now I’ll wish you all adieu.

But before I go, faith I’d like to know If John M‘Laren still unfurls his flag, And if Miles’s donkey is alive and spunky, And what became of the unemployed rag ? Shure, as for Auckland, ’tis a regular balk land, They’ve sold their birthright for some lorgoo,. They cry separation, but until cremation, We won’t give in to the dirty crew.

Then Mr Spaker, like a solemn Quaker, Axed a blessing and commenced wid prayer, And Johnny Sheehan was worth a seeing, Only the divil a bit of him was there. Shure I heard a story, your sowl to glory, “ E aroha ana kite Maori ” belle, Faix, he might decave her, but I won’t belave her, For young New Zaland he does mighty well.

Thin the Major prating discoorsed the mating, Boys no surrender, deny it who can, “ And if any thrator ” or provincial crature “ Sneezes at that, I’d like to see the man !” Whin Mr Tole (he’s the man from Aden) — Shure ’twas awful cool, whin his name was O'Toole — Comminced a struttin’ and paradin.

And Billy Swanson, he kept a dancing, At the civil service he’ll have a whack ; Anti Mr Mac Andrew prisints a grand view Whin in his pocket he has got his cheque ; And local option for our adoption, Urged on the mimbers by Fox and Stout ; And Vincent Pike, faith they’re all alike, “Arcades ambo,” shure he’s up the spout.

And bould Sir George says that to gorge At Bellamy’s we must put a stop, But Reader Wood would if he could Stick to his whisky nate and Imperial pop ; And Teddy Wynyard would wid his Jin guard The Jimmey Hennesy’s that run in pairs, While Mr Ormond is a regular gourmand (“ The sly ould divil underneath the stairs.”)

Thin Mr Bums the attintion turns To the railways which we have not got, Makes a grand oration and a nate rogation, And chaffs the Govermint about the ‘ ‘ iron pot,’ * Whin up jumps Sutton (he’s another glutton) See the native ‘ whakawa ’ in Hawk’s Bay, And Lord Henry Russell does spout and bustle That repudiation will hould the sway.

Thin Mr Lamock, he’s from Kilmarnock (M'Cassy says that he flew away), Like a sky rocket, buttons up his pocket, Boys, while the sun shines, let us make hay And from Timaru there’s a hullabaloo From the foster mother about the want of pap And Mr Murray is in a hurry To fill the voids in the Opposition gap.

Thin there’s Billy Rowe, wid his little go, Wants a line from Piako to Waikafcw, While Dr. Wallis, full of fun and malice, Will tache the Ministers a thing or two ; And spouting Rees, who can at his ease Talk forty hours widout sitting down, While he cuts and whacks at the Govermint- . hacks, And cares not a jot for an ugly frown.

While the big guns thundered, and the people wondered, And cried out bravo, there’ll be wigs on the green ; \ Och I where’s the “ Smiler,” the great beguiler ? The divil a like of him we’ve seen. Whin Mister Whitaker, the great ould litager, Called in the bobbies to stop, the row ; _ -Faith they’ve lowered their screw by a bob or tWO — : -V. t-iPi On the nixt occasion, shure, 111 tell ye how , Great King street, Dunedin.