A PROTEST

Timaru Herald, Volume CXLV, Issue 21180, 29 October 1938, Page 31 (Supplement)

A PROTEST

Well, that’s about the limit—and then some! I can’t express my feelings . . . sort of numb, And sick (I would be for two pins), and mad; I dunno when I’ve been so dreffle sad. Mind you, I much prefer one proper run To lots of rides—there’s orecious little fun In being shut up in a stuffy car And told “Don’t fidget,” still, well—there you are! If everybody goes, one wants to go To keep an eye on them and things, you know. (One does see life, and. if bored, yotf can jump From one lap to another with a plump!) But now they’ve got a NEW car—and I mayn’t Ride in the thing because I scratch the paint And smelly slithery seats, and leave a lot Of hairs and patter-marks! What fussy rot! Yes, they’ve gone off—without their faithful Me! I want to howl! I will . . . Now, let me see—(Not that I care ... I do wish I was dead!) I’ll slip upstairs and roll on every bed; I’ll drag the rugs across the landing floor; I’ll see if cook has shut the pantry door. There may be nothing on the bottom shelf, Again, there may be; then I’ll help myself. (Shut? What a pity!) Next with care, I think I might remove that dishcloth from the sink, And with a little firewood I can scrounge I’ll make a tidy litter in the lounge. (I can’t get in the garden, or I’d dig A hole, a spiffling one, both deep and big.) Anything else for wretched me to do? . . . Are we down-hearted? Do we care (much)? Pooh! Ha! Ha! When they come back and find things—so! I hope they’ll understand. Oh yes, THEY’LL KNOW!