The Famine And The Feast

THE FAMINE

Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
None in the manger, and none in the shed,
None in the box where the chickens are fed,
None in the tussocks and none in the tub,
And only a little one out in the scrub.
Oh, I say! Dumplings to-day.
I fear that the hens must be laying away.

THE FEAST

Cackle and lay, cackle and lay!
How many eggs did you get to-day?
Two in the manger, and four in the shed,
Six in the box where the chickens are fed,
Two in the tussocks and ten in the tub,
And nearly two dozen right out in the scrub.
Hip, hooray! Pudding to-day!
I think that the hens are beginning to lay.

Politics For Tots: Lesson 2~ &Quot;The Party&Quot;

Now, children, in this Lesson Two,
Briefly we'll make some mention
Of party, just in case that you
Some day, with the intention
Of furthering ambitions grand,
May seek to serve your native land.

You join a Party, first of all
This move is most essential.
Your Private Views you must recall,
They're quite unconsequential;
For if you'd be a Party Man
You must cleave to the Party Plan.

Either you must be Black or White;
Browns, Drabs and Greys don't matter.
If you choose White, White's always right,
If Black, then with the latter
Rests all Wisdom in the Land.
You've got to Barrack for your Brand.

But, children, there's a chance you may
With Obstinate Persistence
Incline to Fawn, or Cream or Grey,
Then you can't Make the Distance.
You'll keep your Soul; but I'm afraid
You'll have to learn some Nicer Trade.

The Mellowing Of Joe

When the Laborites and Liberals are bickering,
Are a-calling and a-bawling in the House,
And the strangers in the gallery are snickering,
As the members rear on end and loudly 'rouse,'
There's a voice they miss amid the vocal thundering,
A voice that led the howl a while ago.
And the people in the precincts are a-wondering
What has happened to the erstwhile acid Joe.


For no longer does he lead his noisy following
With a cheering or a sneering to the fray;
But they watch him sitting silently a-swallowing
All the gibes they hurl at him across the way.
And, as others mark his silence 'mid the bellowing
And the bawling of the blatant party cry,
Then they realise that Joseph is a-mellowing;
He's a-mellowing as time goes by.


When the Affable's a-sobbing and a-sorrowing
O'er the 'precipices,' 'chasms' and the 'brinks,'
And the Ministry's antipathy to borrowing,
Joseph mellows as he sits and sadly thinks.
Sits and mellows 'mid the bellows of his following,
While the howls of Willy Kelly smite his ear,
While the Fusion in confusion is a-wallowing
And the green, unripened members bawl 'Hear, hear!'


There is something that is sobering and saddening,
In the autumn of political careers;
And the thoughts of former verdancy are maddening
As a member mellows with the passing years.
For his greenness and his meanness set him shivering;
And he solemnly begins to ask himself,
As he feels the tree political a-quivering:
'Will I ripen on the bough or on the shelf?'


But the verdancy of Joseph is a-vanishing,
Whereat right-thinking citizens rejoice.
All his sourness and his dourness he is banishing;
You may note the alteration in his voice.
Though it is not yet attuned to softest 'cello-ing,
'Twill be sweeter, meeker music by-and-bye:
For 'tis evident that Joseph is a-mellowing,
He's a-mellowing as time goes by.

The Mountain Laboured

A patriot spake thus to an eager throng:
'Give me the power and I shall right each wrong.
And Fortune, smiling, on our land shall look'
His name was COOK.

Lo, I beheld, throughout a continent,
A nation wrestle with affairs of State,
And patriotic cries, wher'er I went,
Poured forth alike from groundlings and the great.
I heard man reason with his fellow man;
From shore to shore rang out one mighty screech,
As, daily, from a thousand platforms ran
Rivers of speech.

Consul and Senator keen combat waged.
Doctor and Saint joined hotly in the fray;
North, South and West and East the battle raged;
And ev'ry citizen had much to say;
Bland politicians talked incessantly
It seemed a very battle of the gods;
Though much they said appeared to me to be
Over the odds.

Then lo, upon the great Election Day,
The day appointed for the mighty test,
Cab, jinker, motor-car and humble dray
Hither and thither sped at the behest
Of rival statesmen whose bold streamers flared
On wall and hoarding....You can guess the rest
'Twere easy spared.

My wife remained at home to mend my socks;
But forth went I to claim my sovereign right,
To win my freedom at the ballot-box....
I got back home at twelve o'clock that night.
Or was it two next morning? I forget.
But I had done my duty like a man:
Helped in the noblest scheme man's fashioned yet
The Party Plan.

And then a solemn hush fell on the land
(I was content, considering my head,
Next Morning). And behold, on ev'ry hand,
Expectancy and hope one plainly read,
Till through the land rang out the herald's voice
Telling the upshot of that mighty fray:
'Joseph is consul! Citizens, rejoice!
'Ip, 'ip, 'ooray!'

Rejoice I did; and my prophetic soul
Saw for my country happiness and peace.
For he had reached at last the longed-for goal.
Now would our corn and oil and beer increase!
What would it profit else, this strike, this pain
A mighty Nation shaken to its soul?
Sans good result, all hope ('twas very plain)
Was up the pole.

Into the Hall of State I blithely went,
Eager to hear the dignified debate
Grave, reverend seigneurs in grave argument
Engaged, discussing great affairs of State,
Wise counsellors....But stay! What's here amiss?
Are these the honoured makers of the Law?
Now Heav'n defend our Party Plan! for this
Is what I saw:

A yelping, clamorous, unruly clan;
A small bald, agitated, snapping man;
And, as they raved, his fist he fiercely shook
His name was COOK.

Oh, my brothers do not wrangle.
When the sweets of office dangle
At a most inviting angle
Be polite.
In the legislative struggle,
When in office safe you snuggle,
Then to jangle or to juggle
Isn't right.


And, O never, never niggle!
Though the vulgar people giggle
When they see a statesman wriggle
To a place.
And, I prithee, never niggle;
With the man who stops to peddle,
For the act upon his head'll
Bring disgrace.


And we ought to take a broad, strong view.
What's the matter if the prospect isn't new?
There is virtue in the viewing.
When it comes to merely doing,
Well, it's really not important what you do.
It's the view
Grand view!
Never let the doing part embarrass you.

When in politics you dabble
Then of course you'll have to babble,
To the vote-possessing rabble
'Tis the game.
When you engineer a shuffle
The ensuing party scuffle
Somebody is sure to ruffl
All the same.

Then be wary; do not temble;
Smile politely and dissemble,
Though your actions do resemble
Somersaults.
When your legislative symbol
Is the tricky pea and thimble
Your manipulations nimble
Are not faults.


But, I charge you, take a strong, broad view.
It is most entrancing when you have the screw.
There's no need to be exacting
In the manner of your acting;
'Tis the statesman's motto when dissensions brew
Watch the view
Wide view!
And your story of the sight will see you through.

When a banquet you've to tackle
Where the ancient chestnuts crackle,
And you have to rise and cackle
To your kind.
Mayhap some hiccoughing freak'll
Rise and, venturing to speak, 'll
Mention you as 'Misher Deakle,
Never mind.


Let your honeyed phrases trickle,
And defend the Fusion pickle;
Show them that you are not fickle
In the least.
Say that, why we do not muzzle
Labor members is a puzzle;
And they'll cheer you as they guzzle
At the feast.


And bid them take a broad, strong view.
Bid them see around both corners, same as you.
You're the saviour of the nation
At a mayoral celebration
If you do not harp too much upon the 'do.'
Praise the view
Grand view!
And they vow you are a stateman strong and true.

With this popular preamble
You may then adroitly amble
To the shocking party scramble.
Voice your fears.
Tell them Labor's sure to stumble
If it does not cease to grumble;
And each alderman will mumble
Glad 'Hear, hears.'


While the nuts they calmly nibble
Let vague phrases gently dribble;
Give them any quip or quibble.
You're immense.
But, ah prithee! do not trifle
With a hint of acts; and stifle
Any mention of a rifle
Or defence.


For there's safety in the strong, brod view.
The suppression of the hard, strong 'do'
Is a matter most essential
When the Tory consequential
Is the man you reckon on to see you thro'.
Boost the view
Great view?
And they'll all begin to think they see it too.

Budding statesmen, there is muckle
In the View when you've to truckle
To the crowd that will not buckle
Into graft.
When your policy's a muddle,
And you're sailing in a puddle
With a Fusion crowd that huddle
On a raft;
Talk in vague, unmeaning jingle;
For the crowd with which you mingle
Holds within it scarce a single
One who'll work.
Here, where HANSARD's pages rustle,
Three a show of rush and bustle,
But there's ne'er a chance to hustle;
You must shirk.
Keep your eye upon the broad, strong view.
Call the crowd's attention to it till you're blue.
Keep them watching intently,
And you can con-ven-i-ently
Hate the fact that you hvae nothing much to do.
Praise the view
Fine view!
And they may forget to keep an eye on you.

Thus it happened .... Let me mention, lest I raise an unsought quarrel,
This occurred in times long vanished, in the land of Git-yer-gun.
'Tis a quaint, unlikely story; some folk say it has a moral;
But that's a little matter you may settle when I'm done.


Mr. Foodle led a party that was strongly democratic,
And it represented people with the Christian name of Bill.
And in all his hustings speeches Mr. Foodle was emphatic
That his crowd existed solely to uphold the people's will.


Mr. Boodle led a party that was Liberal - or Tory
(Just according to your view-point) - and it represented those
Christened (by immersion) Percy, whose hot socks proclaimed their glory;
And its policy was such as you may readily supose.


So they strove in an election .... (Now, I wish it noted plainly
That this happened years ago, and in the land of Git-yer-gun) ....
And each side employed its talent to upbraid the other mainly,
While the voters cheered them madly, and the crowd enjoyed the fun.


The Democratic Party (Bill by name) supported Foodle
For such was the convention with this quaint old Party Plan
While the Tories fought like fury to promote the cause of Boodle,
And, of course, the crowd named Percy voted for him to a man.


And the others of the nation - all the Johns and Jeremiahs,
All the Peters, Pauls and Paddys, all the Colins and Carews,
All the Richards and the Roberts, and the Hanks and Hezekiahs
Voted for some bloque or other, each according to his views.


Then they counted up the numbers, when at last the fight was over,
And both Democrats and Tories - Bills and Percys - looked quite sour
When the numbers showed them clearly neither party stood in clover;
For a few odd Independents held the balance of the power.


Mr. Foodle called his Caucus .... And he put it to them plainly:
'Never mind the Bills,' said Foodle; 'we have got them in the box.
If we would escape extinction 'tis our plan to pander mainly
But with caution - to the Percys and the cause of fancy socks.


'For,' said Mr. Foodle gravely, 'understand me, votes are needed!
How to catch and how to keep them is the question of the hour.
Never mind your Public Questions; let the Big Things go unheeded;
We must compromise a little if we mean to hold the power.'


Mr. Boodle called his Caucus ... And he put it to them clearly'
'Gentlemen, ignore the Percys! We have got them in the bag!
But the Bills, we must remember, have the votes we covet dearly;
And till we contrive to get them we must let the Big Things lag.'


So began the op'ning session, with both sides electioneering;
Boodle grew more democratic; Foodle watered down his views;
Bit by bit they drew together, more and more alike appearing,
Till the voters, looking at them, vowed there wasn't much to choose.


Sometimes Foodle reigned in office, sometimes it was Mr. Boodle.
'Twas the Grand Old Party System, for the shibboleth held still.
And they vowed that ev'ry voter - (as was plain to any noodle)
Must most palpably be Percy if he wasn't christened Bill.


Meantime all the Dicks and Davids, all the Johns and Jeremiahs,
All the Mats and Pats and Peters, surnamed Smith or Brown or Burke,
Shouted with the Ned and Normans and the Hanks and Hezekiahs,
'What of those Big Public Questions? When do you begin to work?'


Still the factions went on fighting - ('Tis a right that factions cherish)
But on one important matter both the parties were agreed;
In this world of sin and sorrow Bills may die and Percys perish,
But the votes to hold his billet are a politician's need.


Boodle battled strenuously, on his rival's ground encroaching;
Fearlessly the Foodle faction sneaked the other Party's views;
Full of fight were both opponents; the elections were approaching;
And upon mere Public Business none had any time to lose.


With the public patience straining, and quite half the nation scoffing
At the Bill and Percy parties, and the voters in despair.
Lo, a party led by Doodle rose serenely in the offing;
And it said it represented folk who sported Ginger Hair.


Doodle soon became the fashion: thousands flocked aronud his banner;
Scores of Antonys and Arthurs, Joes and Jacobs, Mats and Micks,
(Even some stray Bills and Percys renegaded). In like manner
Flocked the Hanks and Hezekiahs, and the Davids and the Dicks.


All the Red-haired of the nation joined the mighty Doodle party;
And the Brown-haired and the Black-haired and the Grey-haired sought him too;
For, they said, 'What does it matter? He has our support most hearty.
Never mind what shade your hair is. He will see the Big Things through!'


Then, when that great Doodle Party swept the polls at next election,
What a great rejoicing followed! Heavens, how the people cheered!
And the Boodle-Foodle party - (fused for general protection)
Was so absolutely routed that it almost disappeared.


How the Dicks and Davids shouted with the Johns and Jeremiahs:
'We don't care what shade his hair is - black or brown or pink or blue!'
'Glory!' cried the Mats and Michaels with the Hals and Hezekiahs.
'Hail to Doodle! Red-haired Doodle! He will see the Big Things through!'


Mr. Dooddle called his Caucus .... And he put it to them tersely:
'Gentlemen, it now behoves us, seeing all the votes we've got,
To be very, very careful lest we're criticised adversely.
Never mind the Red-haired voters; we have got them in the pot.


'But,' continued Mr. Doodle, 'there are others - perfect snorters.
There's this new Bald-headed Party led by Snoodle! Statesmanship
Now demands we do our utmost to win over his supporters.
Meantime, gentlemen, I'm thinking we must let the Big Things rip.


'Or, if we must tackle something to allay the public clamor,
Let us not be over-zealous and this alientate support
From our Party when the...Gracious!!!!'


I should like to go on telling how they fared; but foreign raiders
At this very hour descended on the land of Git-yer-gun;
And the Red-heads and the Bald-heads fell beneath the fierce invaders
Men who bore aloft a banner blazoned with a Rising Sun.


And they smote the Pats and Percys, and the Jims and Jeremiahs.
Bashed the Doodles, smashed the Snoodles, left the Mats and Micks for dead.
Thrust cold steel into the vitals of the Hanks and Hezekiahs,
And plugged all the Johns and Jacobs and the Josephs full of lead.


Thus it happened .... As I've mentioned, some folk think it has a moral.
You may judge that little matter, as I said when I began.
'Tis to me the simple story of a very ancient quarrel
'Mid the Git-yer-gun debaters with their quait old Party Plan.