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Paterson, A. B. (Andrew Barton), 1864-1941

"Other Verses"


Speak up and say what made you do
This dreadful thing -- that is, if you
Have anything to say!'
He spoke. `I meant at first,' said he,
`To give their spades a bump:
Or lead the hearts, but then you see
I thought against us there might be,
Perhaps, a fourteenth trump!'
. . . . .
They buried him at dawn of day
Beside a ruined stump:
And there he sleeps the hours away
And waits for Gabriel to play
The last -- the fourteenth -- trump.


Tar and Feathers

Oh! the circus swooped down
On the Narrabri town,
For the Narrabri populace moneyed are;
And the showman he smiled
At the folk he beguiled
To come all the distance from Gunnedah.
But a juvenile smart,
Who objected to `part',
Went in `on the nod', and to do it he
Crawled in through a crack
In the tent at the back,
For the boy had no slight ingenuity.
And says he with a grin,
`That's the way to get in;
But I reckon I'd better be quiet or
They'll spiflicate me,'
And he chuckled, for he
Had the loan of the circus proprietor.


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