VAGRANT VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 18848, 14 June 1920, Page 4

VAGRANT VERSE

MOTHER HUBBARD. (Written for the Southland Times.) I.—By Sir William Watson. Fond mistress of a hapless canine friend. The gentle Hubbard of a worthy line. You, too, must see the shafts of ill descend On your grey head as they have fallen on mine. What of your England and its boosted pnde Its crude verse-makers and the “Daily Mail” ? Where every ancient law is set aside And worthy hounds must hide a wagleas tail. Your mascot of a noted pedigree, Grows thin before a lack of proper fare. While bolstered in the street each hour we sea Curs owned by any post-war millionaire. 2. —By John Stead, M.B.E. A worthy object Mrs Hubbard yours Of more than passing interest to the (own Where many a well-stocked butcher’s shop allures The sprightly pug—no wonder butchere frown.

Some Municipal effort must be made, I’m with the public as each day is shown. We’ll have a holiday and a parade, And no poor dog will have a meatless bone. 3. —By Shaun O’Sullivan. High-bred by Mr Lilico you are, You cost a dreadful sum for any poet, You’d work a chicken to a jelly-jar And figure big in any world exploit. I’ve got a book on how to bring you up. And know your classic profile is a treat, And yet, you’re such a very hungry pup, I cannot keep you at the price of meat. 4. —By Robert Francis. Hail, Hubbard, hail! You did the best you could But keeping dogs can never come to good. Nay, nay, forsooth, erstwhile, my muse befriend, Your story has a fine Miltonic trend. Oh, Hubbard, Mistress Hubbard, Hubbard - hail, Land of brown heath and shaggy bew ail 1 —Southerner. Invercargill, June 13.