A FLY FELL INTO THE MILK

Southland Times, Issue 20664, 20 April 1929, Page 22

A FLY FELL INTO THE MILK

—First Prize.—

One hot and sweltering summer’s morn, A thirsty fly sat all forlorn, And panted for a drink. Said he: “The creeks are all dried up, There’s nothing for a fly to sup, I’ll soon begin to shrink.”

“Surely this is not a dream, This lovely smell of milk and cream, I guess I’ll buzz along. Methinks I’ll fly a little higher, Then volplane down in the byre And sing Slim Jim a song.

“So up I go, my word it’s hot! I really will enjoy a spot. (Of milk, of course, I mean). ■ I’ll first alight on the cow-byre thatch, Then into Slim Jim’s baldest patch, So shiny and so clean.”

Alas! the milk time was o’er, Jim took the milk to his coolest store,

The cream to skim off first. The fly looked on from the highest shelf, There were other flics besides himself, All there to quench their thirst-

When Jim went out the fun began, Our hero foremost in the van

His thirst to satisfy. ' Good manners for the time forgot, He gulped the milk like any sot Until he couldn’t fly.

He dozed a while on the bucket’s brim, And dreamt of Strawberry, also Jim, And blessed them in his .sleep. He also dreamt of homely Jean, Who loves so dear the pastures green, And the town she holds so cheap.

He awoke, at last, with a noisy din, The cream, was gone, and the milk looked thin,

But his thirst once more he’d slake. He clamoured down the milky way, He tried to stop, then gave a sway and jammed on his fourlegged brake.

His brake, unluckily, did not hold. ■ His slide to death is nearly told, He’ll never buzz again. Jean fished him out all wet and dead, The Coroner in his verdict said: “Died from water on the brain.” 5/- and 4 marks to Cousin Molly Mavis Wills (14), 60 Fulton street, Invercargill,

—Second Prize.— Jerry McGhee was a bright little soul Who carried milk in a pretty blue bowl, He was hurrying along in the usual way, When a fly fell into the milk, one day.

Now, the pestiferous fly, we’ve always been told Spreads diseases ’mid young and diseases 'mid old. Jerry knew this, and got in a fuss, And tells the funniest story thus:—

“My fingers were dirty, and I couldn't get it out, And all the other boys soon gathered round about. Dan said it was a blue-bottle, or a big bumble bee, Which had spoiled all the new milk for my poor Daddy’s tea.

But when he took a closer look, and saw it was a fly, He said it was the proper time for the adventurer to die, So he picked up a stone and threw it with great force Into the bowl of milk, which quickly broke, of course.

“After this,” said Jerry, “I won’t be so silly, I’ll always put the lid on mother’s new billy.” —2/6 and 3 marks to Cousin Vera Gillespie (11), 79 Yarrow street, Invercargill.

—Highly Commended. — A fly once lived on our pantrj' shelf, It crept over the dishes whether china or delf, Our food stuff too, met the me fate, It was always there, it never was late. But one very sad, and unfortunate day, The fly fell in the milk, and died right away, . We tried" to bring the poor thing round, Our efforts were useless, the fly was drowned. We buried it under the old apple tree, Played the dead march as sad as could be, We will leave it now, in its shroud of silk, For that was the fly, that fell in the milk. -—2 marks to Cousin Sylvia Porteous (10), 183 Spey Street, Invercargill. —Highly Commended. — Half a yard, half a yard, Half a yard closer; “You havn’t learnt your work?” “No,” I said, “No, sir.” The teacher jumped at me He seized my short hair “You say you haven't learnt That miik spoils in air?” I jumped, then said, “Please, sir, It surely goes sour,. If it’s left in the air, It sours in an hour.” “But why?” said the teacher, “What makes it go sour, Is it insects or grubs?” I starter! to cow’r. Half a yard, still closer “I’m tired of milk air,"’ “Why does it sour?” “A fly Fell in the milk, sir!” —2 marks to Cousin Peter Ferguson (14), Underwood. —Highly Commended. — A fly fell into the milk one day, And swam about in the milky way, Till along mother came with a dessert spoon And took it away pretty soon. I don’t like flies about the place They get in the milk then on baby’s face; They spoil the food that- is fresh and pure, So, "kill these flies it’s the best cure. 2 marks'to Cousin Constance Gillespie (8), 79 Yarrow Street, Invercargill. —Highly Commended. — The fly stood on the burning deck A-lookin’ for a spot To cool his little tootsies, Because they were so hot. What shall I do, where shall I go?” He cried with tearful eye, “Oh, what a dreadful place this is, For a lonely little fly.” The flames rolled on, he had to go Or else be roasted quite. He flitted here,- he fluttered there, And nearly died of fright. At last he spied a jug of milk, And into it he fell, x “Hurrah! I’ve saved my little life, By jumping down this well!” Just then there came a fearful bang, A crash that reached the sky, Up went the ship, up went, the jug, And up went little fly! 2 marks to Cousin Jack Heath (10), Dunrobin.

■ —Highly Commended.—Once I saw a little fly, Buzzing round the door, The cheeky chap flew on my nose, And then on to the floor, And when I tried to catch him He hopped on to the table, And started eating sugar, As fast as he was able. “Aha! and now I’ve got you!” Cried little sister Nell, But he flew upon the milk jug And then right in he fell. I took a spoon and fished him out, He was both wet and sticky, And then I gave him to the cat The one we called old Micky. —2 marks to Cousin Rosemary Heath (8), Dunrobin. One fine day, on our window pane, A fly crawled and buzzed and buzzed again To get to the open; but all in vain, The glass hindered progress. He had to remain. In time it grew weary and flew into the room, Endangering itself to a much worse doom, For pussy was there, and fly paper new, But the fly circled round, and escaped the two. But strange to relate, of all dangers around, That fly settled down for a rest on the ground. Then up and away its way to pursue, Little thinking that danger so near it drew. The milk on the table, a cover beside! Mr. Fly watches his chance to peep inside. With a buzz and a gurgle, alas! before he knew, That fly’s fate was sealed, in the milk, drowned too! —2 marks to Cousin James Fortune (11), Home Street, Winton. —Commended. —- A fly out on pleasure bent, Left, his home one day And joined his comrades on the scent, Of a farm not far away. Being very full of fun, They didn't know' what to do, Until they spied a big milk can, And round and round they flew. They’d circle round about that can, And then they'd take a dip Till one by one they thought it fun Of milk to have a sip. The farmer’s wife she spied those flies, And at them made a dash, So one poor unfortunate thing Fell in it with a splash. She took the fly out of the milk, And killed it on the floor, So that at least one wanderer Will go homewards no more. —1 mark to Cousin Elsie Amos (15), Invercargill-Glencoe R.D.