A PROSE POEM.

Horowhenua Chronicle, 17 February 1915, Page 3

A PROSE POEM.

(By Walt Mason,). The big men dare, and the big men ■ T do; thoy dream great dreams which they make come true. They bridge the rivers and link the plains, and gird the land with their railway trains, fiiey make tho desert break forth in bloom, they send the cataract through tile flume to turn tho wheels of a thousand mills and bring the coin to a nation's tills; the big men work and uhe big men plan, and, helping themselves, TTolp their fellow-man. And the cheap men yelp at their carriage wheels, is the small dog barks at tho big dog s heels. The big men sow while the cheap men sleep, and when they go to their fields to reap, the cheap men cry: "We must have a share of ail tho grain tlfat they harvesst there. These men are pirates who sow .and reap and plan and build while wo are asleep. We'll legislate till they luso their hair; we'll pass new lavts that will strip the n bare. We'll tax them right and we'll tax thom left, till of their plunder they are bereft. We'll show these men that we all despise their skill, their courage and enterprise." So the small inen yap at the big men's heels, the fake reformers with uplift spiels, the four-eyed dreamers with theories fine, which bring thom maybe three cents a line, the tin-horn grafters who always yearn to collar coin that they do not earn. And the big men sigh as they go their way; they'll baulk at tho whole Named thing some day.