Pet Lambs (?)

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 150, 27 June 1931, Page 5 (Supplement)

Pet Lambs (?)

A GENTLEMAN HAS A GRIEVANCE. (By “Madame X.”) It is pleasant indeed to 101 l in the shade of a blossoming tree in the sweet spring-time, and watch the merry lambkins frisking on the hillside of some verdant woodland pasturage. How blithesoinely the snowy innocenla gambod round their mammas. Who would think 1 ask you, that they could grow up to butt, for instance, a dignified elderly gentleman lik*-. me, and lay him out in the avma cf Mothei Earth? I once thought that tha pct, lamb, with fleece as white as snow, was a gent It- affectionate creature. I had read such was the case, in numerous poems by reliable authorities. But after association with a pct lamb or two, I felt the poets had been misinformed. Now, a friend of mine, a farmer friend, presented us with a small lamb. A very small lamb, in fact, and one possessed of a mournful “Where’s my mummy” bleat. I took this poor wee orphan to my heart and cherished it with tireless care. My kiddies did not cherish it half so well—they didn’t get the chance. I tell you I was keen to secur? the creature's love and trust for my very own I Alas, for mv pains, as you shall learn. The first day it came it seemed to be shivering and trcnil ling with cold, ao I swathed it in an old piece of blanket, and put it blanketed, in. a box in the warm kitchen. I had a vague notion lambs were fed in some ingenious way from a bottle and a rubber cork. (What! Oh, wasn’t it a teat?) No. I had no such thing as a teat in the house. But I endeavoured to use my brains in an emergency (an admirable trait! children) so .1 was rewarded after :i few minutes with a great idea. 1 procured some warm milk from the good wife, also a piece of clean cloth. Wrapping a strip of the latter round my finger I soaked it in the milk, and squatting on the floor like a Chinese idol—me. the noble, dignified scion of a Lalor flat—allowed the lambkin to suck sustenance therefrom, and the moment I left it. after I judged it had procured enough, it would fiet up a woeful bleat till I had to. in desperation, feed it again, and so procure silence for a time. Anyway, the animal grew and waxed strong. It seemed bigger every new morning when I went to gaze over it. But now it was growing very boisterous, and my faith in the lambs of the poets here began to shake in its foundations, and shake more each time I found that lamb had discovered fresh villainies to perpetrate. You ken the little snow-white lambs beloved of verse and painters. You’ve seen them pattering sedately. behind a sweet, old-fashioned little girl with a huge hat and a multitude of curls. Those wee lambs never got out of control and, dashing into the neighbour's garden, ate up his lettuces and other beloved plants. Mine did It was absolutely brazen about lettuces. And very careless about its personal appearance ; it was quite happy about carrying a barrow-load of wood chips and shavings around in its wool, and as for lying by the hour in the ash heap and accumulating n maximum percentage of that dark dust, well I well! but I am coming to its worst sin. It was my unhappy fate to he butted by that sheep. It's a sad tale. I was indulging in a morning wash in the backyard, whither I always prefer to wash as 1 can make a “splash” without arousing th? ire of my. “better half.” The lamb wa« stationed a little distance away looking very mild and unconcerned. I know now that to bend over a basin or such like before an enthusiastic sheep is to invite trouble. But I didn't then, worse luck. My face and hair surcharged with lather. I planted my feet apart to jerk up the rinsing deluge of water when—oh! how can words describe it? Had I been hit by a falling church, or was it the end of the world? My venerable head had crashed to the bitter bottom of the deep wash basin; soap in ears, mouth and nose, and next instant I was picking myself up opposite to where 1 had stood a few moments ago, badly jarred and wholly mystical of the why and wherefore. Through a sore haze of soap i presently learned of the falling church, my malicious pet lamb! There he was frisking around like and excited rowdy. till its chances of getting in another “crasher” came. And then, even while I watched it plunged again with a vehemence worthy of a better cause, and smashed its head ’into the overturned bottom of the basin. My wife liad to buy me a new wash basin next day, and I tethered the “Butt-er” on a stout rope "C'era! hours before I was due for my 2m1 U H° n ri Pre L aution ’ Prevention, you know, and the like, ] m usually a good-natured person and overlook a lot of clumsy jokes, but not for instance, the butt-ing of a hefty sheep. I really must any I was angrv Y<>t the apolraretie wax It behaved, it. BMme d f„ r a few day» after, and the added ze.t it devoured buttercups with, won me over again live a grievance with buttercups) fo“ „ time. But one dark morning it esp ,-ed a human, and the reckless human ws, bendtyins a in front of its path, and—well, my goodness, the human was aged, and you know how it Is; me>-e apologies nf the mouth sound rather inadequate, don't the y? so j forcal (o cn<l f 1 sau<?€ an< new Potatoes. The ' RIDDLE ME REE My first is in gown but nut in dress, My second is in argue but not in guess, : Mv third is in mother but not in dad, My fourth is in brother but not in lad, j My fifth is in smoke but not in times, ' My whole in something which rhymes with ‘’names.”