KIPPERS FOR TEA

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 10, Issue 88, 31 January 1947, Page 6

KIPPERS FOR TEA

The Cockneys call them slippers

from the sea— Unfortunately I slipped one into me In the region called Soho; In a third rate Iti show, Steamed Kipper and a pot of tea, Eventually were brought to me; My companion, a man of many beers, Hadn't time to wash behind his ears; The incense rising from his feet, Was atmospheric bliss complete; I called the waiter and paid for my fare, Yearning for a mouthful of fresh air; I lurchingly arrived in Soho Square, Where I barged into a cop, Who said, "Be careful, or I'll pop You where you're surely going to

stop; But say! What on earth is. eating you! Your dial seems neither green nor

blue!" "It's what I've eaten," I replied—- " Kipper! It's made my inside Feel its committing suicide"; Then I was piloted to cover, Where one thing soon brought up another; At last when I could firmly stand, I grasped my benefactor's hand Saying, "That's for the kids, you'll

understand!" "There ain't no kids," he sadly said, "I'll drink your health with it in-

stead. Was it the Kipper upset you Sir?" "No," I replied without demur, It was the grandson of a skipper, Who said his grandad sailed his clipper Round and round a PNO Boat, to let its captain know, The fastest greyhound of the seas, Was homeward bound with Indian teas. His grandson haden't washed behind his ears Or bathed his feet for years and years. H. SERGANT.