Journal Stories From The 2000's

L.U. No. 230 Victoria, B.C.
Editor:

The hunting season is almost due and there will be a rattling of weapons from the old army musket to the modern high-powered rifle, and our wood butchers will be butchering the innocents again.

The line gangs are an uneasy bunch, but still it is likely only a rumor that they are arranging an excursion to Pier Island to attend a new show put on by the Doukhobors, entitled “September Morn.”

While out for a stroll recently I noticed a crowd gathering along the main street, “Wot’s this?” says I to myself. At first sight it appeared to be an expedition starting out on a hiking trip to the North Pole, but it was only the line gang, goose stepping in Indian file, on their way to the golf links. First came “Chief Big Smoke” Meldram, tall and massive, like one of our native Totem Poles, only slightly better looking. Next came “Comealong” Casey, with his cap set at a rakish angle over his left eye, which drew looks of admiration from the fair sex. Next to him came Brother Jimmie Brown, his voluminous plus fours concealing the fact he had ankles. Then came Brother “Arry” Down. “Arry” doesn’t look happy. He has trouble on account of having been appointed base umpire in our city baseball league. He says he doesn’t mind the pop bottles bouncing off his dome when the fans question his base decisions, but what hurts his simple soul is the langwidge they bawl him out with, which is simply “offal.” Following “Arry,” was “Smiling Charlie” Bradshaw. Brother Charlie has a fine record in the squared circle, and has never yet met an opponent who could separate him from his celebrated smile. Last in line, but not least, came “Bungie-eye” McKenzie. All the gang carried their war clubs, but “Bungie-eye”, in addition, was so loaded down with extra equipment that he looked like a traveling camp kitchen. He carried a hoe, a spade, a tin bucket with ice and bottles in it, and a large basket of wieners. When asked what the wieners were for, “Bungie-eye” said, “Well, if this gang hits the balls as far as they expect to there’s no golf links on this Island big ‘nuff to hold ‘em, so we’re taking a few extra links along.” I didn’t question him further, for though he is very slim, he is well over six feet in height and can flail his long arms around like sails on a Dutch windmill, and it would be inconvenient for me to have to go to work in a roundabout way. There are rumors that Brother Sid Neville has serious intentions of taking refuge in the game, but I wouldn’t like to state this positively.

Shappy.



	Published in October 1932 - I.B.E.W. Journal L.U. No. 230 Victoria, B.C. Editor: The hunting season is almost due and there will be a rattling of weapons from the old army musket to the modern high-powered rifle, and our wood butchers will be butchering the innocents again. The line gangs are an uneasy bunch, but still it is likely only a rumor that they are arranging an excursion to Pier Island to attend a new show put on by the Doukhobors, entitled “September Morn.” While out for a stroll recently I noticed a crowd gathering along the main street, “Wot’s this?” says I to myself. At first sight it appeared to be an expedition starting out on a hiking trip to the North Pole, but it was only the line gang, goose stepping in Indian file, on their way to the golf links. First came “Chief Big Smoke” Meldram, tall and massive, like one of our native Totem Poles, only slightly better looking. Next came “Comealong” Casey, with his cap set at a rakish angle over his left eye, which drew looks of admiration from the fair sex. Next to him came Brother Jimmie Brown, his voluminous plus fours concealing the fact he had ankles. Then came Brother “Arry” Down. “Arry” doesn’t look happy. He has trouble on account of having been appointed base umpire in our city baseball league. He says he doesn’t mind the pop bottles bouncing off his dome when the fans question his base decisions, but what hurts his simple soul is the langwidge they bawl him out with, which is simply “offal.” Following “Arry,” was “Smiling Charlie” Bradshaw. Brother Charlie has a fine record in the squared circle, and has never yet met an opponent who could separate him from his celebrated smile. Last in line, but not least, came “Bungie-eye” McKenzie. All the gang carried their war clubs, but “Bungie-eye”, in addition, was so loaded down with extra equipment that he looked like a traveling camp kitchen. He carried a hoe, a spade, a tin bucket with ice and bottles in it, and a large basket of wieners. When asked what the wieners were for, “Bungie-eye” said, “Well, if this gang hits the balls as far as they expect to there’s no golf links on this Island big ‘nuff to hold ‘em, so we’re taking a few extra links along.” I didn’t question him further, for though he is very slim, he is well over six feet in height and can flail his long arms around like sails on a Dutch windmill, and it would be inconvenient for me to have to go to work in a roundabout way. There are rumors that Brother Sid Neville has serious intentions of taking refuge in the game, but I wouldn’t like to state this positively. Shappy.