LO, THE POOR CANDIDATE!

Press, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22509, 17 September 1938, Page 21

LO, THE POOR CANDIDATE!

IBy WHIM WHAM.]

Ladies and Gentlemen: it may appear That it affords me pleasure to be here, Your Candidate, who once again presents Himself before his dear constituents. Here in the Parish Hall I stand and freeze, An icy draught is sporting round my knees; The Chairman rises with a warning cough Which means (how well I know it!), "Now we're off!" My Friends, my loyal Friends, all three of you (Without the Chairman there would be but two): This is a dismal and depressing sight; It does not please me to be here to-nighti I do not like the pictures on the wall, I think this is a rotten Parish Hall: Believe me, there is no more wretched Fate. Than being an Election Candidate! At times like this I heartily repent That ever 1 aspired to Parliament; Sendime, my Friends, O send me I entreat Back safely to my comfortable Seat. The House is shut, no sleeping Member's snore Resounds in that great Factory of Law; The glasses clink in Bellamy's no longer, Where I would once repair for "something stronger"

The happy chime of the Division Bells, The the best hotels! The cry of "Mr I protest!" The luncheon speeches as an honoured guest! How far away they seem. And here I rise With tears of supplication in my eyes, To beg you, at the General Election, To cast your valued Votes in my direction.

Being a candidate was not the most pleasant job—The Won. Aaam Hamilton.

Pity the Candidate, who lives a life Of Platform Politics and Party Strife; His days are anxious and his nights he spends Addressing total strangers as his Friends; Be he a Labour man or National, AH Independent or a Liberal, m , . He must set out with Chairman, Watch, ant To chase the fickle and elusive Votes.

Stamping about street-corners in the dark Or shouting from a bandstand in the park, Scattering Statistics like confetti round me, Daring the boldest Heckler to confound You'll think my life one legislative Song And me as happy as my Speech is long; A life of public works and. Party pranks Concluding with a Hearty Vote of Thanks.

Ladies and Gentlemen: it is not, so. My public Spirit is my private Woe; My feet are cold, my Speech is dull and trite. It does not please me to be here to-night!