[Editor: This poem by C.H. Souter was published in The Bulletin Reciter, 1901.]
A Tight Corner.
Yes, I know it’s a mighty poor chance, but there’s no other way.
Look, man, look at her lips ! Don’t you see they ’re already quite blue?
P’r’aps ten minutes, p’r’aps twenty, and then — it will be as I say.
No. There’s no other remedy now; it’s the one thing to do.
* * * * * *
‘Where’s the canula, nurse? And the silk, and that needle, — quick !
One per thousand ‘perchloride’ — here, please; put the lamp on that chair.
* * * * * *
“Are you ready now, Clarisse? All right, dear ! it ’s only a prick.
* * * * * *
“Sponge, nurse ! No, no — a clean one ! The tube ! — just a second now — There !
* * * * * *
“Hold up, Ted! It ’s all over Oh, bosh ! She ’s as right as the bank.
Yes, perhaps for a moment — but mind, she can’t speak, so don’t talk.
* * * * * *
“Owe me ! Fiddlesticks ! don’t be an ass; it’s not me you ’ve to thank.
Here! drink this. Light your pipe : that ’s your sort ! Now then, come for a walk.”
C. H. Souter.
Source:
A.G. Stephens (editor). The Bulletin Reciter: A Collection of Verses for Recitation from “The Bulletin” [1880-1901], The Bulletin Newspaper Company, Sydney, 1902 [first published 1901], pages 144-145
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