GOOD-BYE, MR "GLEANER."

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIX, Issue 3161, 27 September 1892, Page 2

GOOD-BYE, MR "GLEANER."

That's baiter, Mister "Gleaner," yer improvin' I declare, Tho' yer meter's rathur rocky, jest a little here an' there ; My harmless chaff and bantur seems ter dun yer lot of good An' made yer rite much better'n I ever thought you could. I'tn pleas'd by gosh, to tell yer, yer improvement is immense, Since you rimes in simple English, an' uses common sense, Don't cit your back up, "Gleaner," for honor brite, old son, I doesn't rite in malice, but only jest for fun. An' ter metis most amusin' an' kinder makes me smile To see yer tryin' to imertate my slangy, "slum-like " style, But then it doesn't matter, for yer see you'll always find, As imertation's flib'ry of th' most sincer?st kind. An' so yer say as how you'll crow yer blue boys' " cock-adoodle," How very proud them " boyd " must feel of such a noisy noodle. That's rough—but then yer shouldn't lead a cove into temptation, 'Cos "noodle" tills the blcomin' bill an' suits the situ it ion. Oil th'meiit-i of our quarrels, th' pubiick must deroide, An' we'll jest dei-vide th" laurals (if there's any to rlervidc). But whisper Mr " (Heanei - ," your may take yer blontnin' oath, As that same loiijr-.stiff-jriii' imblick must be weary of us both. An' so yer tut a howlin' swell? Well, I t ikes back what I sed, 'Twas yer sneers at " slum-like patter " put that notion in my head, I ain't no bloomm Tory—you may bet your life that's true— But jest as red a Radical as here and there a few.

I doesn't rime on Sunday, tho'a feller might do worse, An' as for Mrs Grundy—why—l doesn't care a curse. I always had a weakness for them glorious Grecian ladies, An' for such a one as Psycho—well—l'd serve a term in Hades.

Thni's vey little diff'rence 'tween th'erposing teams, That's a fac' we couldn't alter if we wasted twenty reams Of th* largest sheets of paper, with our croud an' faulty rimes, An' inernoperlised th' coluins of th' whole Waikatter Times. That 'minds mo as I wan tor thank th Kditor, yer know | For giviu' a simple cove like me a fair an' honest show, An' I hopes he'll live an' pros pur, an' pile up lots of wealth, I'm gittin' very dry an' so I'll drink his bloomin' health. liAUttACKKIt. [We agree 'with our correspondent that the public have bad enough of this and therefore we will dispense with any further contributions.—Knl.