Page 1 Advertisements Column 6

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 7, Issue 357, 20 August 1863, Page 1

IN VERCA EG ILL AXD THE TOWN BOARD; OR,-BARNEY M’GEE’S LETTER HOME. As sung by Mr. J. Hall, of the English Opera \ Company. . , I would have yez to know I'm a poor hand at : writing—(l think it is right this confession to make) — ’Twas a thing when a schoolboy I took no dej light in, So don’t be severe if you find a mistake In this taste of a letter that’s going to IreJ&nd, (A nate little spot far across, the salt saefj To Larry O’Toole from his friend here in Mireland, '• : ~/) Who, by the same token, arrived t’other day. i ■ ' ' '' . " ‘ . I was mightily pleased when the vessel cost anchor; . I could walk the deck now wid a step firm enough, jFor the ship didn’t rock (for that same divil J thank her!) Hemm’d in as she was by the laud round tlie ! "Bluff. I hail’d to a boat that was dhry on' the- shore, | Aiid very soon saw itputfoff from the sand, And bidding “Good-bye” to my shinmates once more, I jump’d in the skiff and row’d off .for the land. Well, the first man I met was an ouhl Maori woman, Wid a thumping big stone hanging down from her ear; “Tenaqua,” says she, which manes “How d’ye do, man? : “Arrah! purty well, thank ye,” says I, then, “My dear/ ' Have you any Shebeens here ?” She answer’d, “ kahore ! ” “ Tarenages /” says I, “ wliat’s the meaning of that ? ” iSo I thought it as well, as I couldn’t spake Maori, To bid her “ Good morning ’-’ and so end-our chat. A coach was just starting,, belonging to,Cobb : “ By my conscience,” says I, “ into town now I’ll dhriveWhen the coachman exclaim’d, “Say! the fare’s 30 bob.” ; s . .. : “ Oh, you’re joking,” says I, “ throth ! it’s nonsense you’re spaking; Sure I can’t have the sum you 'just mention’d to pay?” “Well, ’taint a red cent less, so don’t be mistaken.” “By my honor,” says I, “ then Tllwalk all the way.”

Into Hughes’s I .went, took a noggin of whisky; 1 lit my ducleen, and widout more 5 delay, I stepp’d from the house with a heart light and frisky, And towards Invercargill I wended my way. ! Soon it came on to rain wid a regular peltker— I (I pledge you my word it ! was.' far from a j joke)— For there wasn’t a house on the roadside for j shelther Until I arrived at the famed Mokomoke. Round the fire at “ Mac’s ” stood a queerish collection Of men as in any day’s march you could meet; There was one with a heard and a sunburnt complexion, Stared me full in the face, and said, “How’* your poor feet ?” ■ ‘ Nayther betther nor worse for the asking," says I, “sir;" Then at my expense the whole crowd raised ! a laugh, j“Arrah! lave him alone, Bill!” says one, j “ he’s a shicer ; i He’s fresh fro m the bogs, and he cannot-stand I chaff. When I got into town what a sight mot my eyes,,! , . - At the Post-Office corner quite speechless I I stood! : . jßy my faith I was nearly struck dumb wid surprise, For I saw nothing round but a big lake of mud. You’re aware, 1 daresay, that I’ve seen bogs | ' before; » But this, on my oath, I can safely assert, In the coorse of my thravels I never yet saw A counthry abounding, like this one, wid mud. Of the state ci the roads you may- form some idea— - (You may think what I’m writing i%nothing but fudge)— They tell me it rains here nine months in the year, And the counthry around is a great field of sludge. There’s a lot of old numseulls (a Town Board they cairem) — Since they, got into office they’ve proved a great curse ; They’ve ruin’d the roads, and, may bad luck befall'’em, For, instead of improving, they’ve made ’em much worse. If I had ury - will, on my word, but I’d settle The mattlier at once without further delay ; I’d sentence the Town Board to go breaking metal, And dhraw it in trucks from the foot of the bay ; If I was their mastber a bard one they’d find me— They should work till they hadn’t a shirt to their backs ; And as for their grub—every day, d’ye mind me ? I would feed them on mullock and New Zealand flax. But it’s no use my talking (and maybe it’s betther To let those ould women go on their own way), And therefore I’ll close up this bit of a-lettber, As I’ve spun out my yarn, and have no more to say; So, give my respects to your father and mother, And likewise to Bridget, your e see, Not forgetting yourself, and long Teddy, your brother; So no more at present from .Barney M’Gek. [lt will be seen from the above that the | Wanganui is not the only Town Board that ■ gets quizzed.]