THOSE "BLOOMING" CAPS.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIX, Issue 3158, 20 September 1892, Page 3

THOSE "BLOOMING" CAPS.

Wk'rk ( -lid t-T pee as how yu' keeps yer ■* hair on, Mister " C'lleinpr," An' we thanks von for permisliun for ter play tl)' koncf-rHna ; You ought to boar our song, old son, th melurdv i- 5 irrand, We're a settin' it ter mosick, so's to giv it to the band. What yon pis about your squcelin' shows what I pod wnv t rue. You won't "lacarate : ' our (?) now that's very kind of yon, ■Rat t.hm-'s one tbincr Mister "Gleaner " as it >eetns as y"U f-oi/et, You wnrn't :>o careful ill your solo as you are in our duet. OF erliipions to our koloura your verse is IHvttV full, Seems maroon mu«t irertate you as a red raR does a bull. I surpnse you've bpon a In .iking on th' wino when it wur red, An' th' rooby tinted vintage lias jest turned your bloornin' head. You ask-! u« if you're "fonlin'?'' Well, I not : ced as a i-.ml — One hears little el-e but folly when he's listenin' to a fool. T don't know if that hits you, an' I doesn't care a ran — But if ver finds it doesn't fit you, why yer needn't wear th' cap. Yon insinuates as how yer think I took a lot of time A kolectin ot the matter for to make up that ere rime, 13ut, I'm a (?"in" to tell yon, "(ileaner. an' deny if you can sur — It. took you more'n twice as lona tfind a a bloottiiu' answer. Yon must have been hard pushed for rimes, or else you'd never, smelv, Skoot. over to the Land of Kilts, an' ring in that word " dourly,'' Furst, ver eoes a usin' French, yer haltin' verso to botch, An' now, by gosh, ver gettin' woorse, you've took to talkin' Scotch ! T had a nia'e as use t"r fay—he's a chap a* ouahter known— "Thopote as 'imps in fnirin tungs, cant know much 'bout his own." Yer ta'ks about my " Sikian brain ''—I'd like t" know, by rrikey— If you prlndes to William Sykes, or to Mrs Cii| id, Psyche. An'l wants t i tell you "(ileaner," hi we calls th' cove a klown, As 'ml jump on other tellers jest a 'cos lie thinks they re down ; 'Sides, we don't think tnueb of potes as snpers at fellers from th' slums Where tlv st-irvin' kiddies shiver in the fever-stricken drums. I purpose as voii'ie some howlin' swell as conies from th" West Knd, Whore th' nobs has cot more money than they well knows how to spend. An' wears swell toss, an' dimuns, and boasts an how they're {rents An' elevator their noses at th' coves as pays th' rents. Woll, 'I'd sooner be a burglar from th' lowest London slum Than roll in wi a'th, an' never cast a starvin kid a cnno. I li\ ,'s in no " kl#*« house,''old son, an : 1 likes r, tlo- m-in' stones, But. you co't sling 'em back yer know, you'll never break no bones. An' you slmdn t .-ay a- lirnv " I 'ifik " Crow has got derfective " vision," lie'.- not a bad old sort, altho' we don't, liki his decision ; " Dick's'' a tliuuderin' bit,' six-footer, an' s< yei belt' r mind As lie doesn't hear ver sayiu a- yer thin! lie's colour blind. An' tho' ver seems to flap yer whips an strut ai' iiod an' crow, I'erbaps afore we've finish'd you'll la- les inclined to blow ; I'or yer see, old son, we're singing tw very ditferent toons— You barracks for your "doughty crew, I xVHOOOt'S ! for the maroons. IiAUHAi'KEK.