MRS BROWN ON POLITICS.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2717, 3 December 1881, Page 2

MRS BROWN ON POLITICS.

[To the Editor.] “ Let dawgs delight to bark and bite, For ’tis their nature to; And why not and you?” Lawks a mussy me, what is all these evil passings for ? 1 writes to you for I knows you have some scents, which some editors have lost theirn through the bile. Now, sir, about this elecshunhearing. What’s the matter with our old member. I think he have done his duty, and don’t think he want to Jay any flattening unktion to his sole as that Timbuctoo Eral said. Flattening unktion to his sole indeed ! He don’t require anything on his feet to help him to walk over the heads of such like imperents. I v\ ent to here him when he maid his first speech, which it was bootiful to hear. Someone asked him if he were agoing to start a soft soap factory. I knew he won’t mind an old woman telling him there’s a soft soap factory which is warnted bad, which it is, as I sed to my son John—John is in the I School, yea—to disburst the whitewashing dodge, for when a man’s credit has got rotten he gets whitewashed, and that„makes him look bootiful and clean again, but the whitewash goes into the holes,which my son John calls poars, and chokes ’em up and the rot still remains and sometimes breaks out worser nor ever. Now if Mr Turnbull could,start a factory to make soap as would wash those dirty critturs clean, how bootiful and sweet we would be. Yes! Them leading articles in the “ Timbuctoo Erral ” —leading articles indeed 1 They won’t lead me—pretty imperent of ’em, laying down the lor as them do, as if one don’t know one’s own mind’without the likes of them trying to force theirn on one. Well now, there’ sMr Partridge—l don’t think that bird will fiy. He aint strong enough on the wing in the purlitical helement. Mr Gibson seems for to have made a messtake somewhere. With such a lot to think on I gets somewhat confuzzled, so I calls my son John— John is in the I school and the hopes of my declinin ears —John what’s all this about property Tax and Mr Gibson P Ob, says my John, quite lofty like, is upon says snorem for ’em. Upon says what P says I. Then John xplanes to me that upon says snorem means the bridge of ashes. Well says I, John, epose they cant get over the bridge then, which a bridge of ashes cant he much good.—Then John he says, with nick a angelic smile, I spose the “Timbuctoo Errol” will have to elp em wade through the mud. Then I says John, what is the meaning of a pnrlitical shammy lion P Do it mean that be have a lion’s skin on, wich dont belong toim? John he never spoke, but the looks of his eyes were serraffic and glorious for to see. John tells me to finish flash like, so I puts what he\does to his ucled lessons. Q. E. D.