Poetry.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5189, 20 December 1884, Page 3

Poetry.

♦ A MEDICAL HERO. [Dr Rabbetb, of the Royal Free Hospital, has < jnat died ufter en-foavouriug 1 to save the life of a ' child suffering diphtheria. Tracheotomy was performed, but the obstruction in tho throat could not bo removed without suction of the tube which had hecu passed iuto tho windpipe. Dr Bahbeth, tuowiugilieiiskß, at one* sucked the tube, temporarily relieving tha patient, which however died, ■ but ho suscuuibed a few days afterwards to the same disease. He was only in his twenty-eighth year.] I They tell us of the heroes of old days, ' Of men who struggled through the roar of fight, When villanous saltpetre made day nfeht, And kings and awestruck people stood at gaze. Ours is a hero who must win your prai?e For strange deed, yet heroic as all those Done in the front of fierce conflicting foes, Albeit he walked in humbler unknown ways, He certes warred in no ignoble strife ; lie gave a dying child his latest breath, And nobly yielded up a noble life j In vain emprise to conquer certain death, I Be these the words on his memorial scroll :— "He dLod for Science. Heaveu rest his soul !" THE COSTER'S STORY. A short, rough man, lean, hungry, worn and pale, Stands by a doorway in a dismal court ; Au« to tlie parson teJ s hi« graesome tale, 'ihe while ti.e ragged children round them sport. You' i c the parson ? I heerd you was comin' ; Bnt haven't you cilled rather ate ? My lit'-lH girl's buried, you see, sir, And tho neighbours are laying • ut Kate. "What? ' Gospel," and "comfort," and "patience," An. l " bear it as well ns 1 can " P " God tv.ok 'em ? " Vh, no, but he didn't They were both of Yin murdered by man t Bow was that, sir ? It's cosy to tell you. M ou 6ee that place over the way, With tbeboirding all round it ? Six acres That only till just t'other day *Was covered with homes, where poor folk Were crowding together for life ; Au<) I lived in one of them places, - With tha moke and my child and my wife. We wasn't as well off as you, sir, Maybe as we couldn't dresi fine ; But we'd always enough for to live on, An' l did very well in my line. To-day it « as flsh, and to-morrow P'raps cabbage, or melons, or pears ; An' i he house, it was werry conwenient, With tlie moke stowed under the stairs. Well, one day a bloke brought a paper, A-givin' us notice to quit j "Fiom the Bonn," says he; " they're a-meaning i ' To improve up your dwellings a bit." " Improvement ;" that's what they were after I 'Tuasn t much that the houses were worth ; But look over there at that hoarding — They're improved off the face of the earth. " Yon Bhould go and live out in tho country," Stud a bloke as come round to explain ; And ho riled me so much that I struck him, Aud, I tell you, I'd strike him again. They gave me a fortnight in quod, sir, An' remarked on my merciful fate ; An' when I come back from the prison, I found that they'd bundled out Kate. She was living up here in the garret Where she's now lyiner dead in the cold ; Little Sally was down with the fever, ' And my good little moke had been sold. Hard," did you say ? I Delieve you ! How was a covey to liveP I'd no money to furnish my barrow, And the neighbours had nothing to give. I did what I could ; but there, bless you, You'll gueßS at the rest of 4he taleHow hunger kept watch on the hearthstone, And our trap* were put up at a sale. N Cold, and starvation, and fever, We had 'em all three at a time ; Not brought by onr fault, but all sent us ; And that's what I'm caJling a crime. I heerd how them folks as are clever Has been inakin.' a deal of a fuss, A-writiu' of books and of papers Just brimful of pity for us. What comes of it 'i 'Stroyin* of houses, With nowhere for poor folks to go. Fine words aiu't a varnish for that, sir, It's cruel, and shameful, and low. j Some day when you're up in your pulpit, In one of them sermons you give. Say it's heist thoy should mind their own bisness, Or atjeast leave us somewhere to live. It's that sort of preachin' that's wanted ; Not stuff 'bout the homes of the pcor, That touches folks' hearts, so they help us ; By turnin' us all out of door.