SPINDRIFT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16987, 10 March 1923, Page 6

SPINDRIFT.

Readers are Invited to send in original topical paragraphs or verses for this oolimm, which is a daily feature of the " Star.” Accepted contributions should be cut out by the writers and forwarded to the Editor, who will remit the amounts payable. The soldier settler who believed that there was money in. it, write#?:— I have a farm.— 1 am a returned, soldier. I have fowls—- “ There’s money in fowls.” Food 1 costs money. And 1 feed my hens. I have pigs.— “ There’s money in pigs.” Bacon’s a good price. Sait must cost an awful lot. I have cows.— “ There’s money in cows ” Milk's 6d a quart. I average 6d a gallon. I have land “ There’s money in land.” I put in my war savings and gratuity And it’s still there. I have hills. “ There’s money in bills ” IV hose money? Bill’s section has all mine. What T returned for T don’t know. Soon the Government section will Re the Government’s section And I’ll have no farm. Tliat Peggy’s “ ducky ” frock is simply it, There’s not a doubt, But to eat it would, T fancy, Indigestion bring about-; I’ll own there’s scarce enough of it To make a mouthful —still I’ve never known a “ducky” frock j Without a toughish ,c bill ” Ray—Have you “been wearing long ! skirts long ? May—-No, smarty, I've been wearing i short skirts longer. Physician -If your wife is a doctor, why didn’t you have her prescribe for ratient—Too expensive. The last time she ordered me three months at Palm Beach and went with me herself. P.ubby—You’re three-quarters of an hour late. IVhat do you mean keeping me standing around like a fool ? The Wife - 1 can't help the way you | st a nd. The Seaside Soprano—Did you notice ; how mv voice filled the hall yesterday ! night? The .Seaside Soubrette—Yes, dear: j in fact. T noticed several people leaving j to make room for it. Laconic Tourist—lnformation given out here ? Tired Clerk—lt has. The poet sings in festal lav the glories of the waking day. And bids us rise and haste away to pec the wondrous dawning: He sings anent the clouds that lie like amber mists upon the sky, While through the trees there rustle by the whisp’ring winds of morning. But he, I trow, hath never waked, and in his scanty wardrobe raked, | And with the joys of Nature slaked j his thirsty soul on rising; While down about his slippered feet the ! birds and worms in congress meet, And he rolls on with language sweet j the mower agonising. He sings the velvet stars that sleep in heaven’s arc bo dark and deep— The shadows long that softly creep o’er j mountain and o'er valley ; But has he ever waked at morn to joy- j ous Nature newly-born And heard the dogs salute the dawn i with doleful, deep reveille P Oh. has he ever in the dew of evening | calm and starlit blue. Thrown off his coat and tried to do the j mowing with his muscle? Alas, he only with his pen dictates the ‘ course to other men, And settles down to rest again from ; life's long toil and bustle. For poets are like other folk who bid us take the heavy yokeAnd with the words of wisdom spoke j take up their pipe and paper ; With them it’s what I “ say.” not “ do.” that is the course most safe and true— 1 Farewell, O starlit evening blue—for rest, O lawn, my caper! The night was as black as ink! Not j a star broke through the darkness of tlie storm-swept sky ! The blackness -was a thing that could be felt—cover- j ing, enveloping, enfogging. It was sinister, menacing. Below me the waters of the swollen river swirled in maddened torrents, j tearing at the banks that held it in, raging with its added burden of floodtides. Eddying and seething, it swept upon its way, carrying everything before. Nearer and nearer it came towards me, mocking and jeering with a thousand hideous voices, and from it Death leered with repulsive face. I felt a cold breath on my face, ; chilling my breath and freezing me with horror. Nearer and nearer, and closer and closer. But. paralysed, I could not move. Fear held me in an iron grip. With a. rush the torrent swept ruth- j lessly towards me, and I sickened with j despair. Now, now—-I felt its icy j touch upon my feet .... { I awoke! Tenderly I placed the j blanket over my uncovered feet-, and i I hiding my arm from the first bite of I frost, slept on I They met at a dance in Sydenham on© night last week. He asked if he I could see her home. He could. They went home. At the gate he said: - Would you 6cream if I kissed you, little girl ?” She: * ‘ Little girls should be seen and not heard.” The first day he went to Sunday School the minister asked him : “ What is your name, little boy?” “ Willie,” came the answer. “Willie who?” “ Willie Smiff.” “ Then Smith is your last name.” “No. mister, Smiff was my first j name, ’cos sister told me they didn’t call me Willie till later on.” Father, returning home from work, was met at the crate by his young hopeful. who had 6is eyes full of tears. “What’s wrong. Tommy?” Tommy: “ I’ve just had a row with your wife and she clouted me.” A well-known city business man living at Papanui takes a great interest in his flower garden, and has won prizes at shows with some specimens from his plots. Oue night a neighbour’s cow broke in and just about scoffed the lot. Now he knows why his neighbour- christened the animal L ‘ ‘ Blossom.” ' ' £TNBAI> -