“A SLACK TIME”
It happened in a garden fair, While Dad dozed in his rustic chair; Aunty’s slacks hung on the line, Forming the V for victory sign; Our billy goat made surrepticious ’tacks, Nearer and nearer Aunt Millicent’s slacks; All is grist to our Billy’s mill, Who then began himself to fill With this unfamiliar fare, That would neither shrink nor tear, While Dad between his shouts of glee Said Billy, you’ll be the death of me. Aunty and Mum came on the scene, Full charged with vindictive spleen, Then began such a tug of war, Our old garden had ne’er seen be* fore. The more the contestants tugged and tore, The louder Was Dad’s hilarious roar, Then came a devastating tear, Poor Mother sat down iri despair, While Aunty marched to Father’s chair, Demanding the price of another pair, “Plus the amusement tax” gasped he— That goat will be the death of me! H. SERGANT.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/BPB19460619.2.14
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Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 9, Issue 88, 19 June 1946, Page 4
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157“A SLACK TIME” Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 9, Issue 88, 19 June 1946, Page 4
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