"THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS IS FADED."

Timaru Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 3447, 15 October 1885, Page 3

"THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS IS FADED."

Oh those lamps ! those kerosene lamps ! Aint they enough to fill yon with cramps ? Like the glow m a tindor-box dingy and red, And not tobo seen till they're right overhead. f How we go stealing and feeling about, . It's really heart-rending without any doubt, '. For I'm very well certain the saddest of sights, ' Are poor Timoru livers deprived of their ' lights. . Talk of " dark agog," it acorns very plain, , They're doing their utmost to get them again ! They'll try candles the next, and you'll sco after that ! They'll have slush-lamps — a rag m a basin of ! fat— ■ What the Councillors' " game " is, of course, 1 they know host. I Blind-hooky I think j but it won't do to jest, [ Thongh the town now at night, is a. terrible , sight, I It's a subject of which yon can nevor make ' light. i I wonder who first thought about the improvement, • Was it Bush, Jones, or Gabites started the [ movement? . Was it Bower, tho watchman, ho'a groat upon [ savings, Or our blue-ribbon Mayor? Did he think burning shavings ! Would do well enough ? If so he's my blessing. : (Bold Sutter was giving tho West Coast a i dressing!) 'Twasn't Hill — by the powers, I'll givo Jacob his rights, He's like a torn oat — he's a terror for lights. It can't bo Delanoy — it couldn't be Bruce, They're two " lights of tho age," that's for certain — the denco, i They'd never go plunging the town m the dark i Just to give tho housobroakers a lift — but i mark — Tho man at tho gas-mill, he hioict 'en both, And he's sworn by his motor — a gas-ly oath — As they grope from tho Council — that some of theso nights Ho'll bq there — keep it dark — and he'll putont their lights. Just think of girls, who aro out, by the Without dreaming of harm — till the devil's ' own hours ; • The innooent dears ! — just conceive their Whon they find themsolvos right m, some young fellow's arms I Thoy might even bo kissed m the darkness — [ oh, dear ! Twould bo no use to scream, lest somo person should hear — ' I tremble to think of tho terrible frights They'll got m the gloom of the kerosene lights. But what's tho use talking, now onoo we've bogan , To " go-ahead backwards " let's Btick to the plan. Cut the tolegTaph wires, why kick np such a lass About what tha world's doing ? It's nothing to us. Tho Post-offico too, is not worth thinking . abont, So lot's burn all tho letters and turn tho clerks onfc, , Smash the dock that's lit only on Saturday nights We can do without olooks if wo oan without lights. . Lot's smash tho Breakwater, old Goodall's a muff, Running out his mud wall — we're spent monoy 1 enough Without borrowing more. Lay a dynamite mino, Blow tho station to pot, and then tear up the lino ; Cut tho wator-race off, go away to its head, Lot tho stream run again m its natnral bed ; — I hon how happy onr days, and bow tranquil our nights, Without rail, wire, or water, or letters, or lights. J. T. M.