POLITICAL RHYMES.—No. 17. WILL OUR TAXES GO THAT WAY?

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 271, 9 June 1888, Page 6

POLITICAL RHYMES.— No. 17. WILL OUR TAXES GO THAT WAY?

Alibad Pasha fell into a vase, For the people w ere asking for bread. ! lie mvoic b> the Piophet, the Poet, and Sage, >% It ■u ere better the poor were dead— For what can 1 do." he tried m despair, "With those pooi vtielehes everywhere ?' lie called his wise men round his throne, "And, oh, what shall I do f cried he— " For Koran forbids us to give .1 stone To the poor in (heir misciy ! It were better to kill them all." ho said, "Than to hear these daily cries for bread." Then up spake gallant Osman Boy, " Mtts our Pastia's beard grow long! Tis a -,in, bo (ho Koran says, to slay The v\ eak ones m a wrong. It i hoy viie poor, I know a way To make them iich," said Osinan Bej. " Nov\ , by tho Prophet's sacred beard, 1 bid thee thy plan unfold !' \*ct AHo.id Pasha greatly feared He would have to give them gold ; But, a vow he made that, come what may, He d try tho plan ot Osman Boy. %t Now, first of all," said Osman Bey, " The poor work hard tor Ten Pi a day, Four go to the Sultan, whom Heaven bless. With his thousand wives, it can't be less ! Two come to yourself," and he bowed his head, " You couldn't got those if the poor weie dead! One goes to the Mosque, and thus, you see. Tho lioor for their bread have only three ! * Now make it law," and good Osman swore "By tho holy shrine hard times wero o'er. If the Pasha made the masters pay Ten extra pi to each man per day ! By Bagdad's sacred, sticam," quoth he, " Tis a plan to stop tuis poverty." Alibad Pasha was pleased right well. For he saw that the plan was good ; But how to divide it he couldn't tell. And still give the people tood. So he called his 7 7'cnsurer to his aid— , And unto him his troubles laid. " 'Tis the easiest thing," said that wily man, "To unravel tho depths of thy royal plan. ' We'll give to thn Sultan four Pi more. He's got more wi\ es, and will need it sore! Then six for yourscH ! and thus wo see, The poor in Turkey still got but three !" There's a lesson to learn, if we are wise, b'roni this fable about the Turk ; It is r.ot in keeping our wages high, Or being in constant work, But in keeping the taxes down, d'ye sec, For, 0, what will it profit you II they tax our sugar and tax our tea 'I o sweeten iip thefciui W. R. Wills.

By way of recommending Lamb's porridge meal, a handbill has boon issued, containing the portrait* of triplets who have been fed exclusively on milk and porridge meal since birth, and intimating that a testimonial fiom the " happy" parents can be inspected. A poetical genius, on receiving a copy of the handbill, burst forth in this strain : — Some sim< of Cleopatra, and some of Dido rave. In distichos, my mistresses, your sympathies I crave, For I was battling well against life's multitudinous ills Until, last night, I got a dose of Auckland Roller. Pills. Landlady (examining a fugitive boarder's trunk) : " Why, Mary Ann, his trunk is full of bricks ! How could they have got there?" "Sure, ma'am, he brought one home in his hat every night."