WE THREE

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 10, Issue 54, 25 November 1946, Page 3

WE THREE

AND THE FRANCHISE

By L(iterary) G(enius;

It is amazing what an election will do to people. It is still more amazing what people are expected to do when an election campaign is on! Now Mortimer and Bill and I are just three plain ordinary common or garden people. We have no wives, in which the married claim we are more than usually fortunate, but at the same time we have no one to darn our socks, in which we are extremely unfortunate. Mortimer is the genius amongst us. He is undoubtedly the genius. His vast knowledge concerning everything, particularly on the literary side overwhelms even himself at times. (He is letting his hair grow as he thinks it makes him look poetic). Bill once worked on a sheep station, or a sub-station, or a railway station or something. Anyway, his legs lean slightly outwards at the knees and he wears a semi-cowboy type of headgear. He doesn’t talk much but he spits magnificently every now and then. I stick round mainly to make up the number for poker.

Anyway, as I was saying, it is amazing what an election will do to people. Only the other day we three decided to go to an election meeting. (Mortimer decided that Bill and I peeded our minds improved before we were fit to vote). We got to the door several minutes after the speaker had started, and found all the best seats taken. However, we spotted three places on a hard looking backless form in one corner, and made a concerted effort to reach it. Just as we sat down, the speaker bellowed from the platform: “Let us stand up . . .” Mort. and Bill and I stood up. « . . . and face the facts,” he con-

tinued. Mort and Bill and I sat down. “Stand up I say ...” We stood up again. “ . . . what’s the matter with you three? Can’t you sit down and stay sitting down? Stand up I say . . . .” We stood up and left. We couldn’t take any more. “I think there’s another meeting on somewhere,” said Mortimer quickly scanning the columns of the Star. “Ah yes. Here it is—Open-air meeting, Queen’s wharf.” We ambled down in the direction of Queen’s wharf. We were almost there when we noticed a group of men standing on the pavement outside a building. “Looks as if the venue of the meeting’s been changed,” said Mortimer'. “Shore does,” said Bill. We joined the group. At that moment a hairy individual in a polar necked jersey strode through the door and out towards the group. “O.K. Line up,” the Hairy one said. Everyone lined up. Mort and Bill and I lined up too. “Strangest sort of meeting I’ve struck yet,” whispered Mort. “I don’t think I’ll heckle this one. He looks to hefty for the average M.P.” “0.K.” said Hairy. (He apparently prefaced every remark by ‘O.K.’) “O.K. youse guys now listen ’ere to

me.” “I suppose this will be a National Socialist candidate,” whispered Mort. “He hasn’t got no little moustache like ’itler,” said Bill. “O.K. Now we got a tough job in , front of us. I run this outfit the tough way. If anybody don’t like it thet’s just toooo bad!” “I don’t think I’ll vote for ’im” said Bill. “Nope. Me either,” I said. Mort., who just can’t resist heckling, cleared his throat and said : “My friends and I don’t think you’re very suitable.” “Oh! So they don’t eh!” growled Hairy baring his teeth under Mort’s nose, which contracted sharply out of reach. “O.K. So you don’t think I’m very suitable. And ’oo said I wanted you three mugs with me any ’ow?” “I wouldn’t vote for him now if ’e was the only one in the running,” said Bill softly to me. “Oh!” said Hairy who apparently had ears like a hawk’s eyes. “Well show me yer Union tickets.” “Union tickets?” said Mortimer. “Yeah. Union tickets. O.K. Don’t yer know yer can’t stand up for a seaman’s job without a Union ticket. Now shove off. Once round the Horn with me and youse guys’d know where yer stood.” We shuddered at the thought and moved off after Mortimer. “Let’s go ’ome,” said Bill. “I don’t think I’ll vote this election.” “Ahem,” voiced Mortimer. But the rest of his no doubt weighty remark fell on empty air. Bill and I were already out of earshot.