MISTER EDITER, - I'm writin' in the int'rests of the farmer,
   '0o, I've notised, 'as bin slandered frequent in THE BULLYTEEN.
An' I 'ope, when you've reflected, an' 'ave growed a trifle carmer,
   You will own 'e ain't deservin' of the insults I 'ave seen.


Sir, I 'ave no lit'ry leanin's, but I tells a truthful story,
   An', befoar I vencher further, I woud 'ave you understand -
An' my plain, unvarnished stat'ment will be backed by any Tory -
   That the backbone of our country is the man upon the land.


'Ence, in speakin' of the farmer, I am allus most respec'ful,
   For, dispite 'is scurvy treatment, 'e is stanch; an', I may say,
Wot with rabit Socialism, an' with Guverments neglec'ful,
   'E is left to 'ump Matilder in a most disgrasful way.


Take the cue of farmer JINKINS. Sends 'is produce to the city,
   To a smart commishun agent 'oo's a member of a ring;
Gits a check fer nex' to nothin', with remarks that it's a pity
   That the markit's tendin' downward in the case of ev'rything.


Sir, I asks, an' asks straitforwad, wot's this country's Guv'ment doin'?
   Ain't the farmer an' 'is intrests worth consid'rin' with the rest?
No!  They leaves 'im unpretected, rooked an' fleeced an' facin' rooin,
   While they fools with wages questions, at the Labor crowd's behest.


Take the cue of farmer JOHNSON.  Wants to buy a modrin reeper,
   An' 'e 'as to pay the seller double wot it costs to bild.
Tho' 'e tries a dozen places, yet 'e fales to get it cheaper.
   For the ring 'as rigged the markit, an' all competishin's killed.


Now, I asks agen emphatik, an' in tones of indignation,
   Wots the blanky Guv'ment doin'?  Ain't the farmer worth sum 'elp?
No!  Their all too busy plannin' Socialistic legislashin,
   All agenst our vestid int'rests, while the Labor members yelp.


Take, agen, the case of 'AYSEED. 'E grows wheat, an' 'as to 'awl it
   Into markit, where the buyers fixes up a little plan -
"Onerable understandin," or sich fancy names they call it;
   But it's jist a low-down swindle ment to rook the farmin' man.


Sir, wot is the Guv'ment thinkin'?  Wot's it goin' to do about it!
   Is the farmer to be plundered rite an' left without a word?
Labor inflooence is workin' all the time; an' 'oo can dout it,
   While the cry of Socialism everywhere is loudly 'erd?


Now, I site another instance.  Take the case of farmer BILLINS.
   'E wants men to do 'is plowin'; an 'e gives a pound a week.
But theni parysights of Onions ups an' asks fer thirty shillin's;
   An' the Guv'ment's most obejunt ev'ry time the Onions speak.


Sir, me blud boiles in me buzim!  An' without no hesitation.
   I declair that SociaLism's rooinin' this 'appy land.
An' I say, an' say emphatik, that all Labor legislation
   Should he stamped out of our statues with a firm, relentless 'and!


Wot we want's a Guv'ment deppo, fer our produce.  Also needed
   Is a Guv'ment fact'ry fer to manyfacter our macheens.
Let the rabit cry of Onion agitaters go un'eeded,
   An' supply us Guv'ment laber.  The we'll show wot farmin' means.


Kin you wonder that the farmer votes agen the Labor party,
   While they aim at vestid int'rests an' at privit interprise?
Only give us wot we ask for, our support will be most 'earty,
   For all mesures that rite-thinkin' farmers may consider wise.


Don't we vote for our class-int'rests?  Ain't we follerin' the squotters?
   Don't we listen ost attentive to the brainy biziness men
Frum the city, 'oo 'ave warned us 'gen the skeems of Labor rotters?
  They're attendin' to our int'rests, an' we'll vote with them agen.


In conclusion, let me mention that the Press is most imfatick
   That the farmer's vote is allus most intelligent; an' 'e
Never fales in 'is support of any mesure demycratick
   When it soots 'imself.  I am, sir, yours an' cetra - SPUDS, J.P.

"Den"
The Bulletin, 27 July 1911, p7