Page 24 Advertisements Column 2

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20774, 6 April 1939, Page 24 (Supplement)

MOUTH ORGAN COMPETITION Class 63—Mouth Organ Solo, Open. Own Selection. Any make of Mouth Organ may be used. First Prize, value 10/-, donated by Mr. J. H. Gittos. Second prize 4/-. Class 64—Mouth Organ Solo. Open. Own Selection, on Boomerang Chromatic Mouth Organ. Messrs. Albert & Son Pty., Ltd., present a first prize of a Medal and 10/-, if three or more Competitors, and a second prize if there are six or more Competitors. Class 65—Mouth Organ Solo. Open. Own Selection on Boomerang Mouth Organ, not Chromatic. Messrs. Albert & Sons Pty., Ltd., present a first prize of a Medal and 10/- if there are three or more Competitors, anc a Second Prize if there are six or more Competitors. EPILOGUE FROM “AS YOU LIKE IT.” Class I—Shakespearean Recitation. Ladies. Ros. : It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; but it is nc more unhandsome than to see the lord the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs no bush, ’t is true that a good play needs nc epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, and good play? prove the better by the help of good What a case am I irthen, that am neither a good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate with you in the behalf of a good play ? I am not furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not become me: my way is, to conjure you; and I’ll begin with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of this play as please you: ano I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women (as I perceive by your simpering, none of you hates them), that between you and the women, the play may please. If I were a woman, I would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me, complexions that liked me, and breaths that I defied not; and I am sure, as many as have good beards, or good faces, or sweet breaths, will for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. (Exeunt Class 2—Shakespearean Recitation. Gentlemen. “KING HENRY THE FOURTH ON SLEEP.” How many thousands of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lulled with sound of sweetest melody ? O. thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch A watch-case or a common ’larum-bell ? Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the 7'ude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the i-uffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them, With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes? Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? Then happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Class 3—Test Recital. Ladies. THE INDIAN HUNTER. When the summer harvest was gathered in, And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin, And the ploughshare was in its furrow left, Were the stubble land had been lately cleft, An Indian hunter, with unstrung bow, Looked down where the valley lay stretched below. He. was a stranger there, and all that day Had been out on the hills, a perilous way, But the foot of the deer was far and fleet, And the wolf kept aloof from the hunter’s feet. And bitter feelings passed o’er him then, As he stood by the populous haunts of men. The foot of the reaper moved slow on the lawn And the sickle cut down the yellow corn— The mower sung loud by the meadow-side, Where the mists of evening were spreading wide, And the voice of the herdsmen came up the lea, And the dance went round by the greenwood tree. Then the hunter turned away from that scene, Where the home of his fathers once had been, And heard by the distant and measured stroke. That the woodman hewed down the giant oak, And burning thoughts flashed over his mind Of the white man’s faith, and love unkind.