Ladies and gentlemen—kindly turn your optics towards me for a few
weeks and I will endeavour to enlighten you on the subject of duxology,
theology, botanology, zoology or any other ology you like. I wish to make an apology, yes my sorefooted, black-eyed rascals, look here and answer me a question I am about to put to your notice. I want to be very lenient with you, but what shall it be, mark you, what shall the subject of my divorce (excuse me), discourse, this evening be? What shall I talk about? Shall it be about the earth, sun, sea, stars, moon, Camp Grove or jail? Now I wish to put before your notice the labour question. It is simply deloructious—isn’t that alright? Yes, allow me to state the labour question is not what it should be.
Now look here, when I was quite a young man I worked very hard indeed, so hard, in fact, that I have seen the drops of perspiration dropping from my manly brow onto the pavement with a thud. Excuse me—yes, I say we shall not work at all! Then again, my wooden, brainless youths, answer me this: should men work between meals? No, no certainly not; it is boisterous!
Other questions I would put before your notice tonight are—why does Georgie Reid wear an eyeglass? Ha, ha my friends we don’t know where we are; therefore where we are we do not know. Yes my noble-faced, flat-feeted, cockeyed, rank-headed asses, I will put before your notice other questions but no longer will I linger on these tantalising subjects. As time wags on and as I have to leave you; certainly I will not take you with me, therefore I leave you. Now the best of fools must part and as I see a policeman coming along I will go. Goodnight!