Shaun’s Patch.

Southland Times, Issue 18969, 16 June 1923, Page 9 (Supplement)

Shaun’s Patch.

“A Little Nonsense Now and Then."—Hudibras.

South Invercargill cannot be crossing a stream or the Magistrate would not ask the borough to swop Mayors. * x « * # • Jess Willard's heroic efforts in the flood will probably improve his chances of a 1 bout with Dempsey, who avoided a fight in France by working in a shipyard. I A baseball player's wife in California 1 was recently granted a divorce because her j husband was continually “bragging of his I qwn brilliant play.” If a man’s bragging is to be a ground for divorce in U.S.A., ' the courts are going to be overcrowded. * * • * • There is a vacancy in a drapery store on the heels of the bright assistant who, when a lady said: “I would like to try on that blouse in the window,” replied: "The dressing room is available, madam.” Said Premier Stambouliski, As he pours himself a whisky, To stay in dear Sofia’s very risky, For the opposition’s frisky, Rough as the Bay of Bisc’y And its time that I was known as Stampcdiski. * * * > • It is noticeable that since Europe acquired dictators,, it has had as many revolutions as a South American republic. A law which compels ships entering British ports to carry liquor, sounds like a move from the Trade. Think of British vessels which have dumped their surplus liquor at the edge of the Land of the Brave and Free, having to -take in another stock to enter Free Britain! And won’t there be joy on the missionary vessel returning to the Old Country! Sir Frederick Banbury says that he “takes nothing lying down.” Not even sleep? The prayer of the owner of a still in U.S.A.: Heaven help those who help themselves. ■ • ~ ST AV,1,1.- ■ TriE, LSYXL:ViLLAGER. Persapoiis nr Tutn ktanfls, A few worn stones now mark its grave; Memphis 6lies f beneath the sands Come..from the- desert wave on waNe. Where Babylon of' mighty kings With beauty stunned her friends and foes, The excavator’s shovel rings, A .starving Arab tells his woes. Where notf Atlantis? Memory! And Troy, where Hector did expire? All gone—mere specks in history— At one with Nineveh and Tyre. Bold Carthage, pride of Hannibal, Who fought with Rome on sea and land— Of her we have no sign at all Except antiques won from the sand. Once mighty Thebes? A dreary waste Now spreads where once it proudly shone. All these of ruin had to taste, All these proud cities dead and gone! Yet what of that! Without a tear Old Time the weak will always kill; But, brothers, we need have no fear—j Otautau is progressive still. • • • • « MINE OWN PEPYS. June 9.—Abroad after the lark and to Rugby Park to see the weekly clash, wherein Star did emerge triumphant for the umptyumpth time, whereat there was much rejoicing in certain quarters, and dole in others. I did earn a Scout badge by preventing my friend from expressing his opinion of the length of the spell. I wept to learn that Sir H. Lauder is not to call. June 11—Sprang lightly out betimes and to the golf links, where in heavy fog I did again prove victorious, defeating Mrs Shaun with ease. I did score several boundaries, however, and finally lost a ball, whereat I did grieve. I must look for a cheaper variety. June 12.—Again I am victorious and peace reigneth in my household. Friend George Mason waiteth on me and talketh of timbers and the growing thereof, I to talk of football and the. ruination thereof. I notice that my newsheet has been enlarged with much bait for the catching of the coming £9OOO. June 13.—1 n the first mid-week clash I see Star’s first defeat, accompanied by a fine run by our fellow townsman, Jno. Coakley, whereat I did thump the old grandstand with my walking stick. One player, ne Ryan, kicketh a flagpost to shivers, whereat the treasurer of the S.R.F.U., groaneth deeply over the expense. I learn that there hath been a change in the rulers of a certain roost, at the hands of Geo. Warwick, S.M., and I scent interesting borough council reports ahead . June 14.—Mrs Shaun reporteth that the lusty fellow who removeth the household garbage hath overlooked our tin. Therefore am I bidden to dig deeply in the estate and conduct certain obsequies, which I do most irreverently. At eve I meet with a fellow dweller of these parts whose wife hath taken up the R .and A. game and he telleth me with much dole that a tin of seed potatoes which he had kept against planting has been consumed in practice drives on the lawn. Whereat I marvel at the grief of one who knoweth not good fortune when its appear. June 15.—Abroad with regrets to meet Geo. Mason, who telleth me of his pend ing departure and tnketh shekels from me for the planting of forests. I am astonished at the persistence with which digging doth pursue me and mine, and then to devise language for the persuading of Mrs Shaun that in this I have acquitted myself well. To my diary and other matters n.o.e.

When I hear low voices coming from a standing motor car I am reminded of the fact tha( its not far from parking to I sparking. 1 Will this ire pounced on by the critiot who declare Ihat “the Government’s iniquitous racing taxation is driving many of the smaller clubs out of existence?” TENDERS. BIVERTON RACING CLUB. FOR SALE BY TENDER. I suppose whsn a man's wife attacks him with a pokrr he is entitled to say that she has a full hand. Now that marathon fox-trotting has got into full swing, we may hope to eee these modern dan< on their last legs. THE BALLADE OF PROCRASTINATION. From wee’.; to week, from year to year I find, the tact I frankly state, That I am always in arrear, Because I d > procrastinate. j It is a most delightful fate: To scorn advice from everyone And live your life forever late— O hey! the things I’ve left undone/ I promise and I’m most sincere— Myself to deeds to dedicate, But somehow vim doth disappear And good intent doth abrogate, As if I’d (a cn an opiate My beet deigns, ere they’re begun, To rob of form or to deflate—--0 hey! the :hings Fve left undone! At times when duty shineth clear My course i. marked upon the date But it is swoet to persevere In idleness, :md ruminate On things which in the ultimate Will be complete, when Time haa run Back to the days primordiate—- * O hey! the ’Jungs Tve left undope! Lad, a man this life would hate If ev’ry web were promptly spun; Be free! thpra/r, will mitigate: “O hey! th; things Fve left undone!* When one : hinks of the progress of dentistry and its dignity in these days, one wonders whether we should not speak of “In the denture of the gale.” Wilbur Glenn Voliva, Overseer at Zion City, Illinois, has given the residents of that place a start on most of us by showing'them the advance sheets of his “Handbook and Guide to Hell,” based on what he describes at helligrams, which he recently received. Hence: Salute to Wilbur Voliva The Overseer down at Zion! May he meet no untimely eml Through over-Jjon.’ THE ADVENTURES OF PHILEMON. Chancing the Ducks. I’ve kept this revelation many days, And nurtured it upon my weary ways Until at lasi, »ood boss, I feel I mus» Give it some l.oerty at last or bust. You know when I was weary of the law And all the legal, forensic jaw, I did decide 1 > hie to rural spots And do some hootin, have a few good pots With my old blunderbuss. The ducks were then In good condition and I felt that soon I’d get my money back rfom that lagoon Which weeks ;>nd weeks I had with lavish hand Fed well on w heat. Of course, you understand By thit that I was boldly going out The night before the opening, about Six o’clock us down the shadows fell To be prepared to start the season well. I sallied forth equipp-ed for the fray Determined on a busy opening day, And I was g.ud for in my bag—what joys! I had a dozen of the new decoys Which are most lifelike and float anywhere When one has filled their innards wp* with air. That night 1 spent the hours with there balloon And set theri floating on mine own lagooi Then went tn deep, serene, and very calm That in the morn my trusty old alarm Would wako mo up in time for me to fix My possie ami get well to work at six. Alas! my bv <, how best laid plans go wrong, How Fate wii!i awkward tread and hand so strong Breaks up our schemes and but to fu» On ruins and the very latest cuss. That night when I was fast asleep and dreaming Of all the joys to come from this my scheming, There came a poacher through the fronty grass Before the stroke of five and saw alas! Upon the water swimming silently A dozen ducks. And what then, bos, did he? He did not pause, oh murderer of »qx>rt! But raised his gun and fired. The report Was heard afar and one small duck he hit But all the others stayed where they did sit. He shot again, again and rank on rank Those well-fed ducks gave up the ghost and sank, When all were gone he walked into the lake The victims of poaching then to take, But found them gone, O gnef without alloy Of tears! he killed each breathless, new decoy! The fiend in silence moved from the lagoon. I rose up at the hour and very soon 1 reached the spot and found to bitter pain The day had opened badly for us twain He had no ducks and from this spot I’d fed AU ducks that morn in wild confusion sped. No sport had 1 but came home in the eve With twelve decoys each punctured like a sieve. O, boss, to think that I who go for sport, Should judgment leave and be thus badly caught.