RHYMES FOR THE TIMES

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 23, 19 February 1881, Page 235

RHYMES FOR THE TIMES

OUR CONFERENCE,

A Sacred Cantata performed with great applause at Pitt-street School-room — Tune : " There's nae luck aboot the house "—Solos : Messrs B-ddle, M— y, Ed— n, Pr— e.

We've held our "Wesleyan Conference In sleepy Nelson town, We white-tied parsons all went up And o\ir black-tied laj'inen down, Our president was Richardson With hainrner in his hand, Says he, " Beloved mind your eye " For I' m Boss in this ere land." And it's ducks, ducks ! fowls, fowls ! And turkeys we did eat, Roast beef and mutton, and fruit ! Oh, brethren, it was sweet. Each morning we got up at six And went into committee Till breakfast time, when off we rushed And joined the girls so pretty. Then hard we worked each day at schemes And plans for raising money. In our Gospel hives our bees must strive, And we shall nail the " honey." And it's ducks, ducks ! fowls, fowls ! &c. By Methodists and Churchmen kind, Right well were we received By Baptists. When we had to leave, Full sore our hearts it grieved. But Ed— n says, of all the shops Where holy men can stay, For beds and grub, Panama house Doth bear the ball away. (For there) The ducks so juicy, fowls so tender, &c. Then each probationer we tried In Latin and in Greek, In Watson and John Wesley, till With fear their souls did squeak. "What's Love?" we asked one dismal wight, " Define to us and tell." " Blest if I can," lie quick replied, " But I know we love full well "The ducks so juicy, fowls so tender, "And the money that we get, &c." Our various funds we overhauled, Our trusts and real estate, Our mortgages and lands so broad Got at an easy rate ; Of title deeds to properties We got a full report, You'd have thought tliat fifty lawyers keen Were arguing in court. Then the ducks, ducks ! fowls, fowls ! &c. Our conference cook above the stove, When he did brake our food ; A print did hang of Christ our Lord Feeding the multitude. We gazed with, smiling face upon Those fishes and the bread, For we thought much better luck was ours And we chuckled as we said — We've got ducks so juicy, fowls so tender, &c. We smash'd John Wesley's rule which says " No gold or jewels wear," For M— ley thought it obsolete, About such things to care. We snubbed Beaumont, and put him down, He broke our good old rule, To keep things squat from folk outside, And he told tales out of school. Spoken— We won't let him sing a solo — he's a bad boy, and sends lying telegrams about our blessed brethren. Pr--ine shall sing it, tho' he hasn't much voice and does go to church and not to chapel, he's a good boy and always does as we tell him, and he's dead on The ducks, ducks ! fowls, fowls ! &c. Of parsonages, we much did talk, Likewise of chapels now ; We daren't spend too much money, lest — We damaged our own screw. One evening nobly we conversed (But then we'd had our dinners}, About the *york of God — likewise — The awful state of sinners (Who haven't got) Ducks so juicy, fowls so tender, or turkeys for to eat, &c. We passed a resolution bold, That we'd no more submit Tied to Australia's tail, with her In Conference to sit. We'll have a Conference of our own No more the curb we'll brook, Like Britons true, we'll scorn control And go on our old hook. (And our own) Ducks, ducks ! fowls, fowls! &C. For us a soiree they got up, Also a picnic grand, Where white-tied saints and angels gay, Walked sweetly hand in hand. Our parting came, the boat appeared, Twelve hours we made it wait ; One holy kiss — we rushed in tears — Lest we should be too late. (And we had to leave) The ducks, ducks ! fowls, fowls ! &c. The ladies wept, the cocks did crow, The ducks they quack' d for joy, To think that we, their feathered friends No longer should destroy. So ends our glorious Conference (The whole we dare not tell,). And when it next doth meet again May we be there to tell. (And once more) The ducks so juicy, fowls done brown, And turkeys we will eat ; Roast beef and mutton, jams and tarts, Beloved 'twill be sweet. W. M.