THE GRATE ELECKSHUN.

Gisborne Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1625, 13 December 1905, Page 3

THE GRATE ELECKSHUN.

(To the Edditer of the Gisburn Times.) Deer Sur,—Wen I sent you my surblime Poim on 11 Our Kandidates,’ you didn’t so mutch as rite one immortalisin’ line in my favor, but you jist stuck it in a 3 if it wur common trash like wot them other fellers rite, who are a ornery lot ov poitry himpostors wot cood’nt make house rime with mouse, properly, fellers with no' jeenius, whose spellin’ is bad, whose grammur is worse, whose punctooashun is worser, an who can’t rime worth the wiggle ov a sick cat’s tale. In sendin’ you this brilliant produckshun to smasticate them feeble Poitists, an’ to proove that my rimes, fur the limes beat the Post Offiss chimes,—l hope you’ll pay sum rispect to the grate name I bear, an’ honnermy grate ancestor who died the othir day only a few hunderd yoers ago. This is the hang ov it—

Thor’s bin’ A orful Bgtishun A tremenju3 domon3trashun, An’ tho Gisburn populashun, Also eadb outlyin’ etatahun, Ha 3 bin geltin’ a sonsashuD, Tbah without tho least cessaahun, Has kept all Waiapu creeashun Oq the troS. Ther’s bin Carroll’s big orashuns, An’ L’s. Clayton’s deciamashuns, G. E. Darton’s fulminashuns, 11. H. Wall’s aasevurashuns, Mixt with stroDg voeifurashuns From Ibo lot.

Thet’s bin Conkatinaskuns, Implikasbuns, An’ sum wild denunciashucs, Flavored with insiniwashuus, Itunnin’ riot with vexasbuns, Calkilashuns, Spsc’jl'ashuns.s Accuraluus, Condemnusbun?, Contradickshunt an’ prelickshuns, Sum divarshuns an’ pervavshuns, Wurds sarkaet’ek, bitin’, drastick, Thena crowd ov hums an’ hawse?, An’ sum elerkwent loDg pawsos, Capped with mighty deklorashum, Runnin’ intor pereraihuns, * Hotan’-Hot, Sharp raps, Black maps, Noisy chaps, An'flowers reposin’ on sum ladies’lips.

Ther's bin A argument race at high pressure, An' loud, wurdy kor.flicts soveor, c An’ torrents ov gab without measure, An’ rivers ov gush fur an’ noar. Thor’s lin Attempts to capswiverlate Carroll, To settle his hash once fur all. To giv him a lurok from his Parlunont perch, Tried by Darton, an’ Clayton,, an Wait But t’ain't no use, he’s in agin’, An a'l the other KandicUPes, Aro a'l askew, an’ luckiu’ blue, At mission sugar-candy rate?. Them Thro?, D. W. C. [ Wi l sorror in secret a sadful Choo-heo ! . 0 them Threo hav fa’len flap, fallen flop ! i While Jimmy’s on the top !on the top I 3 He’s a-bawlin’ out Hosannor, g An’ awavin’ ov his banner, ,f Fur it’s thoro ho moons to stop ! meets c to stop 1 Tnil, SIIAKESBKER, „ Poit Lawrcet.