Browned Off!

These verses, or something like them, were sent to us by Mr. Sid Pasley, of Kavieng, New Guinea. Mr. Pasley may or may not be the poet, responsible but in any event, although the original version was appreciated around "PlM's'* editorial office, a few lines were not suitable for the tender eyes of our readers This slightly expurgated edition, while tamer, still gets the idea over that yos can have too much of the romantic islands of the South Pacific.

I haven’t travelled far, hut I’ve heard a blooming lot Of the beauty of the tropics, and that stupid sort of rot — Of the mountains and the valleys and the coconuts so tall, Of the gentle, balmy breezes and the pretty ports of call, Of the shy, enchanting natives and their quaint, peculiar ways, Of the luscious, lissom maidens and their happy, care-free days. \ But now I’ve seen, enough of it. My sentiments are plain.

So far as little me’s concerned, it’s just a bloody pain!

For I hate the ruddy natives, and I loathe the ports of call, And the blasted, blazing sunshine, and the coconuts so tall.

And the luscious lissom ladies — who’d ivant to make a pass At a bosom that’s all wobble and a skirt of dirty grass?

And the Islands are not pretty—they’re just another drudge— If you don’t believe my simple ivords, come up and be the judge. § And when some silly blighter says, “It’s such a pretty place!”

Ignore the stupid bastard, or hit him in the face.

You’ll be doing me a favour and protect yourself as well If you say, “Your coons and coconuts can go and stew in hell ’. J