WAITOMO CAVES.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VII, Issue 601, 10 September 1913, Page 2

WAITOMO CAVES.

—.»..- . Own Correspondent. Sheep still continue to arrive from southern parts in large numbers. Mr W. Williamson brought up a very nice line of picked ewe hoggets last week, and this week a line of 2500 good mixed hoggets came up for Mr J. D. Stevenson. The same settler also sent out 550 fat and forward wethers off the new burn, which realised the. very satisfactory figure of 26s per head in the Waikato market.

The dairymen ate now in full swing. Messrs Holden and Wood Bros, have each got a large number of cows in profit. The contract for carting of cream from Upper Waitomo has been secured by Mr G. Wratten, who is also a supplier, and that of Lower Waitomo by Mr P. Tarrant. No doubt the dairying industry has come to stay in Waitomo district, but even milking has its drawbacks. The following is the reply given by a Waitomo "cow cocky" to the gentle insinuation that the dairyman leads the ideal life, and is free from the drawbacks which beset ordinary mortals—

Work, work, work; there's nothin' but work done 'ere. And work's a thing I simply can't abide.

I'm only eooJ at Fhirkin', it's more my line than workin'; So I'll have a nap, and let the blarney work slide.

Oh, there 'e is again with 'is "mate just give a 'and," And me too tired to open up an eye. "Can't ye let a feller rest, wot knows 'is own job best,? 'E'd kill me if I weren't too tired to die." And me a-just a-got to sleep again, 'e 'avn't got no 'eart, N'o matter if its "posts" or nappin' stones, E' alius wants some 'elp, so I tightens up me belt And tries to make me muscles work me bones. And now they got a new scheme, they're going to milk the cows— Some seventy I think I 'eard 'em say, Which means hvin' in a shed without a 'ope of bed, It don't agree with 'em wot thinks my way.

It seems ver start at three in the middle of the night, When 'onest folks is fast asleep in bed, And yer 'ammers at the cows, for there ain't no time to drouse, Till yer 'and is 'anging down like lumps o' lead.

When the last low passes out, it's time to start again, The first one's then awaitin' in the bail, As f»r as I can see, this job's no good ter me — The very though's enough to turn me pale.

No, the sort o' job I want, I can see it in me dreams, Ain't carryin' posts for arf a bloomin' mile,

And aawin* 1 dont' like, so I guess I'll go on strike, And teach 'em 'ow to sleep and make me pile.

Now I 'ear there's some is troubled with insomnia they say, 'o hit sort o' don't seem poslbl to me, I i imd a likely boardin , and nx i i <n rtlin' 'oardin,' K io sleep." and charge 'em arf in ua fee.