The Beginning, the Middle and the End

New Zealand Listener, Volume 35, Issue 886, 27 July 1956, Page 27

The Beginning, the Middle and the End

MY mother met a man &he loved, Arid one cay théy were wed. And bye and bye with a feeble cry, I found myself in bed. I knew but aught, nor cated a jot, Of how ad why I was begot. For I was just content to rest, Suckling at my mother’s breast. The months wént by and so I grew, An oilitice at a time, sometimes two, Arid s60m I reached the age of one, My life had truly just begiin. A year went past and I was two, I did not have a thing to do. For mother even wiped my nosé, And dressed me up in girlie clothés. It wasn’t long then I was three, And Dad would lift me on his khee. And try and teach me how to talk, For he had taugtt me how to walk. When I fedached the age of four, My father spanked me when I éwore, He didn’t say much, but what he did, Sent me cfying to my crib.

Well after that I never swore, For Dad could make my rear quite sore. And so I réachéd the age of five, And véry glad to be alive. Soon Mother took me off to school, And on thé way I felt a fool. For as we passed old grocer Hants, I wet my little school-boy pants. The years went by and I left school, And went to work for farmer Poole. And ’tho I worked from dawn ’til dusk, I could not save a blooming crust. I left the fatm atid went to town, Atid got a job with baker Brown. Be‘ore I'd reached age twetity-eight, I found myself in married state.

My wife ahd I soon settled down, In a modest house just out of town. Aiid to complete out ‘wedded bliss, We were blessed with a Boy and a Miss.. The first few years were pretty tough, But we got by with just enough. Then life took on a rosier tint, And we didn’t have to scrape or skimp. The years rolled on and man alive, I found that I was sixty-five. But dear dld Mum has gone to rest, And I suppose the Lotd kiows best. Mary arid Bill have left me too, As sooner or later all families do, Atid now I’m left here all alone, Sitting in the Old Folks’ Home.

Slowly at first the years went by, And now and then I’d have a cry. As I recalled those happy ways, My mem’ries brought of by-gone days. Well, here am I at severnty-eight, And one thing I would like to state. That if my life I had again, I'd live the sate as I lived then, Now my days are nearly done, Will I reach that Kingdom Come, And ’tho I know that God is just, If He won’t have me, the Dévil must,

L.

Oliver