VERS DE SOCIETE.

Observer, Volume 3, Issue 73, 4 February 1882, Page 324

VERS DE SOCIETE.

By "TJn Yieux G-abcon."

No. S.— THE WOES OF A BANKING CLERK,

I'm a bachelor jolly and young, With, ruy black glossy locks none can vie ; Though some say, with envious tongue, That, apostle-like, " daily I die." With many advantages blessed, My friends and acquaintances cry — There can ne'er be an hour of unrest For such a gay fellow as I ! I've a stool in a bank in the town, I've a. steady and liberal " screw" — The " drawing " of which, I must own, Is the heaviest work that I do. In " society " I am a guest, 'Mong the ladies a popular " spark " ; Yet I sing, with deep -heaving breast, Of the woes of a poor banker's clerk ! The " big bugs " who manage the bank Are the cause of my sorrow and woe, For they're all " currant jellies " in rank, And their clerks can't do anything " low." They watch o'er our games and our sports, They track us wherever we go, To see we have pi*oper resorts, And our conduct is quite comme ilfattt. Now that's just the kindness that kills, By its care too paternal by far, Since it classes 'mong positive ills A flirt 'with the maid at the bar ; And forbids c'en the wink of an eye To the seamstress with ripe, rosy charms, Who admires me with simper and sigh, And is ready to flee to my arms ! Of course we may go to the play, But restrictions there follow us too ; For if to the (/ree?i-rooin we stray, Very soon our look-out will be blue ! At cricket, that true English sport, They kindly permit us to play ; But my legs (like my wind) arc too short; For such a gymnastic display ! Our eating, our drinking, our dress, Must all be according to rule ; Our tastes we must learn to repress, And our glowing ambition must cool ; — Nay, worse, when we're wanting a wife, We may not to Hannaford's go And look for a partner in life, Because that is not comme ilfaut ! My crikey ! (no oaths are allowed !) But my fate you may easily guess, If my governors, haughty and proud, Should know that I wrote for the Press ! Then, friends who behold me in print, Pray keep my identity " dark," Nor add by a word or a hint To the woes of a poor banker's clerk. Auckland, January 23, 1882.