Fellow Trevellers
p. 93 · Read in the full issue
When other folk travel They never unravel (Like some I may mention by name).
Their cases sit fairly, The lids all set squarely, And locks never burst to their shame.
Their laundry dries quickly, Their twins don’t get sickly, The day that they leave for Madang; They don’t forget trousers Or newly-bought blouses — They never let best ties go hang.
To leave in the last rush, A shoe or a tooth brush, Is never these lucky folks’ wont: They don’t yack unheeding, Air tickets they’re needing: Or do they, or do they, or don’t?
—Noelle Mason.
Bougainville