POLICE v. PRESS

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 189, 12 August 1931, Page 4

POLICE v. PRESS

i For the Charity match which they staged with success, I take off my hat to the Police and the Press. Collecting three hundred from tickets and Would-be 'harder to get now they've altered the rates. Monday last week when the Press came to light, . , j ! They thought out of “Ginger to get a good They signed a quotation and blamed it on me, And said it was “Old Ginger’s” phil-oso-phy. They’ve let themselves in for a nice little I’ll sue for ingratitude ever so base. They'll soon come to heel and eat out of my And next year they’ll give me a seat in the I stood on the steps and shivered with cold. And marvelled that ko many tickets were sold. The teams marched out proudly and lined up half-way. And Fatty O'Brien led the Police to the fray (Then he got out of the way.) The Pressmen so small looked up at their foes. And then they looked down at their feet and their toes. And wondered no doubt as to how they d get If they stopped a good kick when they collared a John. The game wasn’t bad, but it lacked that finesse Which no one expects from the Police versus Press. And Sergeant McLean at half-time dispensed aid j From some kind of bottle —but not lemonade. When taking the field just after recess, Mclntosh must have thought he belonged to the Press. Perhaps he’d more sips from Mac’s bottle than drops, But he remembered in time he was one of the Cops. ! The game finished up with the Police six to three. Not what you'd call a swell victory. But enough just to say they had put it across, For the previous year it was they had the loss. I went to the “smoko” about which I must And had two small beers to last me all night. The Commiseioner of Police he sat next to the Mayor, The Bobbies weren't sparking because he was there. The smoko was opened to “God Save the King.” Then speeches and toasts went all round the ring. The Mayor and the Minister of Transport you And “Comrade” and Commissioner they all had a go. So people won’t have any chance to exclaim, Fancy! A Smoko! Oh what a dash shame, To think we bought tickets for charity’s sake, Out of which comes a smoko, well that takes the cake. I'm saying right here you have got one more guess. If that's what you think of the Police and the Press. For this amoko they levied themselves a few bob. And now that’s explained I’ll get on with my job. They had some good beer in a five-gallon keg. Don’t dare to repeat this of that I must beg. When the Press and the Police found the keg had been pinched. They were both in the mood to see somebody lynched. The Press put it over the catchers of thugs, They had their own men looking after the jugs. To miss serving Policemen the Press did contrive. If they try that game next year they’ll come a “flat dive.” Then “Brother” spake up and he waxed eloquent. He was very “intrigued” for when homeward he went His new “bun” was missing from off of its peg. It had shared the same fate as the five-gallon keg. He rings McLean daily and solicits his aid In finding this bun for which he has paid? I presume he’s forgotten to ring the Brigade. I can't understand it—are they new friends he’s made? Now one of the Police with some stripes on his sleeve. Around about midnight the smoko did leave. He arrived home eventually and fumbled the door, And then started in with a key to explore. The keyhole had vanished and not left a Imagine his feelings and the look on his face. By this time his family, aroused by the din, out in their nighties and let father And now for the Police and the Press and the Sword, They had a good day for their match, thank the Lord. Although it was cold and it didn’t rain hard, three cheers for our Press and our own Scotland Yard. “GINGER.”