Page 13 Advertisements Column 1

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12405, 24 August 1918, Page 13

4* rewuqgH AkW£ on and have a feed!" It may be a simple enough meal—but; in France. For with it he also gel Warmth, the Cheer and the Socianil Church Army From New Zealand to the Front yoi Army Huts everywhere—and they all and to “carry on." You can't give what you OU —none of uo can. But haw all you CAN give? Think it over—then send your Donatioi MILITARY AFFAIRS COMMITTEE . 20 Mul Or to Kbt. f. w. whxulky, Hon. See. in N.Z. (or Church Ajmj, OnaondTille. HAINCS-1* NOTE.-Church Army Donations may also 73, Bealoy Street, Christchurch. Good School Stationery .. Just as good notepaper indicates the social standing of the writer, so does good School Stationery leave its impress on the teacher. The best letter paper is used by the, highest-paid business man, and our Exercise Remits Writ. pc= V f{ n s Ic tl tc d< II

as | r m "~'” : |^rt* •*•***•: ajow*w«*: i ■W <-k * s' m jw -•;!--V, ;y ?4V.' s, $ Ki & ii s&*<*<s *siii W??SMSi OV\ m ... v I-'.-- ■? ■ i I *sss Hi i & |i I f»'. </■ . ' g^&V^ S$ \<f\k \ Wf , d r # fefsHsrc Xc®¥ m v**< W .si. / a " ■■-,—^ m m m (MRS.) STAN ROBERTS PRIVATE HARLEY COHEN vi vI. Mrti WvMwiU imi ■■ l i I I HENRY LAWSON J. W. GORDON 77/£ TRAGEDY A DIRQE —(By Henry Lavson.) Oh, I never felt so wretched, and things never looked so blue, Since the days I gulped the physio that my Granny used to brew; 3Tor a friend in whom I trusted, entering my room last night, Stole a bottleful of Heenzo from the desk whereon I write 1 I am certain sure he did it (though he never would let on), For ho had a cold all last week, and to-day his cough is gone; Now I’m sick and sore and sorry, and I’m sad for friendship’s sake—(lt was better than the cough-cure that my Granny used to make). Oh, he might have pinched my whisky, arid ho might have pinched my beer; Or all the fame or money that I make while writing here— Oh, he might have shook the blankets and I’d not have made a row, If he’d only left my Heenzo till the morning, anyhow. So I’ve lost my faith in Mateship, which was all I had to loss Since I lost my faith in Russia and myself and got the blues ; And so trust turns to suspicion, and so friendship turns to hate— Even Kaiser Bill would never pinch his Heenzo from a mate I ABSOLUTION—FOR WOMAN So there’* a woman in the case t I surely should have known it— Wherever Hatred's weed gains place A woman’s hand hath sown it. But for the silent gentler sex I’d no such bad opinion As to concieve that she’d annex Heenzo from my dominion. (Oh, shame upon me old grey hairs, And on mo bygone splendour! I thought I was locked in and safe Against the female gender.) But since she was in sore distresss And to the deed was driven, I’m glad to know her cold grew less, And so our souls are shriven. -’ARRY. A REPUDIATION (IBy }• W. Gordon) I never pinched your Heenzc* On that I’ll take an oath! But about the beer and whisky— Well, I might have pinched them bothl I still have faith in Russia, And I still have faith in you; But- admit that Heenzo’s better Than what Granny used to brow. I have shared your meat and damper _ As wo camped behind a log, When the union was the puppy, And the squatter was the dog. I have pinched your pipe and ’bacon Where the western rivers flow; But I NEVER pinched your Heenzo Where the lights of Sydney glow. I have shared your beer and whisky On the irrigated soil. And have shared your rug and blanket Whore the western shearers toil; But I fear I can’t convince you (Since your love has turned to hate) That I NEVER stole the Heenzo Prom my cl d old mate. The bloke that stole your physio— He was nothing but a “cow”— I could smite him on the whiskers, I could smite him on the brow; I could yank him out to Yanco, And there leave him to his fate. And he’d never more steal Heenzo Prom my dear old mate. A CONFESSION (By Stan Roberts) I pinched your Heenzo, Harry, And I’m feeling mighty blue, To think I made such mischief ’Twixt two old mates so true. My eye fell on your whisky, And to hook it I’d a mind, But when I saw your-Heenzo I left t’other stuff behind. Though I wag sorely tempted To go on a howling "scoot,” The graveyard cough upon me When I started out to loot Made me pinch your blooming Heenzo, For 1 knew ’twould cure my cold, So I pounced upon thatiphyaio Which I valued more than gold. Now that I’ve made confession, Your pal you’ll reinstate, For he never stole the Heenzo Prom his dear old mate. Pray do pardon me, Jim Gordon, Tho’ I’m nothing but a “cow,” I’ve no whiskers to bo smitten, And I’m sure you’ll spare my brow, As for yanking me to Yanco To meet n fearful fate, If you’re never short of Heenzo, Well—fix an early date. rys iMV p as # m ts>* NAME FOR m c.a <taa; THE FAMOUS MONEY-SAVING REMEDY FOR Coughs - Colds - Croup ■ Catarrh HEENZO is obtainable from all leading Chemists and Stoics, or by post on receipt of price from G. W. MEAN Chemist WANGANUI ANOTHER CONFESSION (By Private Harley Cohen) I have read your blanky squealin’ In the papers just to hand; How yer blame yer dear old cobber, Which I cannot understand. Tho’ he did pinch all my bacca And he did pinch all my beer, If a nasty cold near skittled NiY old pal and kept him queer. I B have said "Buck up, y* blighter, Here, what’s mine is yours, old paid,” Though to part with all his Heenzo Would have hurt a "digger” hard. I’D have said, "This stuff is dinkum"Of it I’ve used a blinkin’ lot; "It will make yer cold a quitter, "Come, take a dose, old pot; "I tell yer, Bill, this Heenzo’s rippin’ And I’ll bet yer’ll sny tho same; Nos, bless yev dear old cobber, “Just because he played tho game.” So don’t blame poor Jim Gordon, Nor wish him any ill. But listen, Henry Lawson— And take this as yer will— I’ll make no bones about it, But tell yev frank and free, THE GALLIPOLI STROLLERS shook ItThat’s straight to you from me; Yes, wo pinched yev Heouzo, Harry, For that crime we’ll take all blame, Although there wasn’t much of it, Sure, it cured us just the same. FORGIVENESSFOR THE STROLLERS So they write to confess, and they write in distress, And each totter increases the gloom; For I didn’t let on that on different nights There were TWO bottles pinched from my room. Well, a mate's but a man who is fighting his fate, And a crook has his sorrow and grief - So the mate Til forgive for the sake ’of a mate And a thief for the sake of a thief. And I’ll let the Gallipoli Strollers go free To pile up the takings (or bolt) • AH players and strollers have had’claims on me Since the generous days of Bland Holt. ~’ARRY. ft - - / i