The Cow Country Chronicle And Butterfat Beaconette

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 3, Issue 272, 17 February 1941, Page 6

The Cow Country Chronicle And Butterfat Beaconette

BRINGING HOME THE BACON j j FROM EDGECUMBE TO SMtTHFIELD A 5-day-a-week worker from Llic congested area of Whakatane was admiring the week-end view out on the Plains. Said lie, sniffing the atmosphere: "Even the air seems different out hare." Replied his cocky host: "That's because, the wind, is blowing from the pig styes." But to get down to serious business: We arc bringing Home the bacon. At least, hundreds of prime baeoners nrei taking a single ticket train ride from Edgecumbe Station to see the bright lights of the city, with" good prospects of a cool triip overseas. (Out of the Fridge into tlie Frying Pan, so to speak). Mind you, the censor has closed down on all news of overseas shipping—German raiders at sea, you know. Otherwise we might see In the shipping news or society gossip page of the N.Z. Hear-all: "Mr and Mrs P. Rime Baconer, of Rangitaiki Plains (and sisters, cousins and aunts) are leaving by S.S. (deleted by censor) on a trip to London. They hope to visit Smithfield market (it's still there in spite of Hitler and Co). They contemplate settling in England— that is, if they can find a nice hot plate and fried eggs to drop down on." (Loud sizzling). Thanks to the. Royal Navy, the Royal Air Force and Old King Neptune —the Red Ensign is still fluttering up and English Channel (Hitler's water jump)—where ships are "bringing Home the Bacon" (Loud grunts of applause from pigstyes all over the Rangitaiki Plains). SPORT OF (COW) KINGS MUCH ADO ABOUT HORSES Stopping to chat to two Neddys hanging their heads over a gate I remarked: "O'fT day for you Nags?" "Yep. Boss gone to races," said 1 one, swishing his tail at the flies. "Oil well, its an ill wind that blows nobodj' 1 any good," I remarked philosophically. "Gives you boys a holiday." "Miind you," said the otheir Nag with a knowing shake of his mane, "we feel a bit upset that Boss has deserted us just to have a look fit some spindle-shanked thoroughbreds. After all, we DO work for our living." i "What's that noise?" I asked, pricking up my ears. "A dog fight?'' "No that's a radio," said Horsey No 1. "Hired man is listening in to Gordon Hutter broadcasting. "Hang on a minute and we'll give you the judge's plaeings," came tlie words from the direction of Boss's house. The two farm horses swished their tails and neighed I-lORSELY. ■1111181111111

Edited by Esop Junr

AN OLD SETTLER? YES. MORE ABOUT OLD PASPALUM Just wlion it was that Mr Paspalum. Grass first settled on the Rangitaiki Plains —well nobody seems to know or . care. He was well established when most people came here. And like Johnnie Walker (born 1820) he is still going strong. If j'ou don't believe it you can ask the cows. They know. Between ourselves, old Mr Paspalum is rather a favourite with the ladies—that is, the dairymaids who fill the cream cans. Just to test (nothing less than 40 or 38) this out. I put the question to a black and white cow which w 7 as twisting her foot-long tongue round the grass over the road fence. "How do lady," I said, "How's the tucker?" Said she: "0.K., boss," and went on devastating the grass. Says I: "What about hopping over the fence and going places?" "Nothing doing," says she between the bites. "Got a date with my boy friend, Mr Paspalum. Can't turn an old friend down." So that's that. They tell me old Paspalum is an Aussie —fair dinkum Aussie, same ?.s so' many politicians from late Mick Savage and Hon. Paddy Webb and Hon. Bob Semple downwards.- Came over here a long while ago and dug himself in. Now he's like those politicians: He's got possession of the country—or at least a good slice of it. And he won't let go. GOLD THAT GLITTERED , "RUMOURS" OF RAGWORT? All is not gold that glitters. No, Sir, it may be only ragwort. O'nly ragwort! You exclaim. But of course there is no ragwort in the Whakatane County. Why ail the County Council's horses and men are, running round all the Crown and Native land, putting salt or something on the tail of the weed. So we read in the report of the County Council meetings. Believe it or not, there has been a bit of yellow ragwort showing up in some of the best regulated farms. But of course the seed blew in from the careless farmer next door. It always docs! i Believe it or not? I have been told that ragwort is a native of Scotland. And like other Scottish emigrants—porridge, pipers and thistles, to mention only a few ■ —it has done well in a more general land. But that may be only a rumour, you will say. About the ragwort on the farms? Well .you have n look. KBBM ESS Si — BM 888 WH BB OB !