The Lanark County Council Scottish Poem– names names names

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The Lanark County Council Scottish Poem– names names names

 

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Lanark County Council 1909- Photo from Norma Ford

 

AN APOSTROPHIE TO THE LANARK COUNCIL OF THE YEAR 1917

Oh, place it on record, this year of our Lord.

 A record complete of the men at the Board

The Board where the laws of the County are made.

 And all the petitions for money are laid.

            THERE’S honest John Browning, erect in his chair.

 Elected as Warden, the boys put him there, and his praises we’ll chant. ­All honor to John, the Reeve of Lavant With gentle persuasion good order he keeps, and when he calls “Order! Then order he reaps He signs all the bills and accounts that go the through, and keeps a close eye on the money chest too. He comes from a township; smooth where it’s not rough they say he is blest with a lashin’ o’ stuff. He leans to the ladies, put that in your crop A lady’s man always moves up to the top.

            NOW add seriatim, let that mean what it will. While each legislator now swallows a pill, we’ll take the boys singly and pass on our way, From Darling to Elmsley, from granite to clay; Now Craig is the first, and all the boys call him Jack. He shuffled the cards and he shifted the pack. The deal that he made put him out of the hole, Oh, sad was the wreck of poor Jimmy Rintoul

            DALHOUSIE is known as a. canny old spot, that’s why they elected the man they call Scott He chased his opponents all over the shop; Bill Jackson got left, so did Willie Dunlop, now. Scott is a man and his front name is John, as gentle a soul as you might look upon, so saintly in peace, but a devil in War­ He then talks the Gaelic of dark Lochnagar

            Now LANARK is blessed with a set of good men “they eat lots of fruit well, the fruit of the hen. They deal in fat horses anti breed bonnie Rye and a wee “Deoch and Doris” is welcome “Hooch aye Jack Somerville! Yes, he’s a pretty good scout,

He doesn’t say much, but you’ve got to look out. For it’s up to the ceiling and down to the floor then something is started and jack clips his oar.

 

In PAKENHAM Township the little boys play, the run of their fancies is moulded in clay. But the mould of the men is genuine gold, O’Connor the Great beat McKibbin, I’m told. Now, Bill took some beating. Of fine parts in Bill: A great grist of kindness he takes to the mill. I am sure he will spread it, and not without honor To him they elected, our good friend O’Connor.

            Now RAMSAY is smiling in excellent trim. ­Oh, where is McArton, and what about Syme? I bow to the honor your township has done. A good man has gone, and a. good man has won. From Carleton to Almonte you’ve now on the string. ­A pretty long step for a. neat Highland fling. A sigh for the past, with its gullies and ridges, Hope springs on, eternal to culverts and. Bridges

            A word about DRUMMOND. Let’s give him a cheer for on comes the hero, commanding a steer. This may be the brindle long years ago lost. ‘When Oates was a farmer and steers he could boast. O shame on you Drummond shame and a. tear! Did no Drummond maidens go leaping last year”. This fellow’s a bachelor, no mint may compare, over burdened with riches and never a care. Oh, why must the State pine and suffer the loss, for Leap Year is past, native gold gone to dress. No feminine hand gentle udders to squeeze. And time finds a. bachelor harder to please, Oh dim are the meadows and dark are the goods is Drummond so barren of petticoat goods? Speak up, fairest ladies, there’s something amiss.  Make Andrew engage, you and seal with a kiss

            THE hillside of BATHURST is fertile and fair. A very good reason for rhyming with Blair. This lucky young stalwart comes on fancy free, with every good measure he’s bound to agree. Some time in the future, disturbing his dreams. He may think this old world is not what it seems For serving the public creates in its wake. The whirlpool and its eddies that matter at steer and staunch is the craft with course pointing true That reaches the harbor with cattle and sow

 

But ELMSLEY floats near like and angel of dreams.  The Rideau enthroned, proud Queen of the streams, and visions of joy on the old Ferry Road.  Attend the election of Good Mr. Code.  His pipe dreams are Highways, sure Heaven itself calls.  An entry to Perth and a road to Smiths Falls.  Ah’ then twill be paradise, golden and blessed like some brave young Bhoy by his colleen caressed

            THEN Nature passed round all her bounteous gifts And the magical gods entered into the drift; A Banshee in Burgess bored deep in the ground, Deposited there all the ore to be  found, And now with a. smile like a. mica mans roll, Jack Cobourn comes on at the head oft he poll, He winks and he nods and he gives you the eye, And than you decide if it’s Dewar’s or “Rye..” Some day he’ll be Warden, and. Burgess will cheer, ‘Good luck to you, Jack, and a, Happy New Year!”

            The pastoral scenes of Montague swell O’er many a stretch of hillside and dell Supported by friends, and fearing no foe, ‘Tis Ferguson comes with face all aglow In pure mathematics he stands all alone. And clever Indeed is the figuring done. Percentages tell when the values are high. And old Montague is assessed to the sky. But equalization sets everything right  Sir Ferguson is a most chivalrous Knight

            The riches of Beckwith piled up to the skies Great bars of pure bullion in pyramids rise, and thus represented braw laddie comes MacNairn, McLaren  descendant of Thrums Now Thrums is a picturesque spot in the glen. Oat porridge and haggis; are food for the men and these are the chiefs, with Montague too. Surveyed the town Line, and Moore put it through. Nae doot it. costs thoosands and thoosands and mair But what about that? Losh, the money is there!

            But  ere a fond leave of the rural we take a glimpse at the beauty of sweet Christy Lake. SOUTH SHERBROOKE a name that brings memories dear.  The form of Buchanan, the dim shade of Greer.  For, placid the waters and gentle the day.  A hook and a paddle a crust and away Tis the reign of the Georges for weal or for woe.  By George! Its time that a fishing we go.

            The urbans are models they never do wrong Economy swells from their lips in a song. There’s Charlie and Tommy together at school In the long; long ago, playing “Peanuts” and “Bull,” But now with a flow of choice speech at command The “Peanuts” and “Bull” spread all over the land. Oh, warm is the core of their dear Irish hearts.

And woe is the day when Perth from them parts! They fight with shillelaghs, their aim it is true A “wake” for the men who would challenge them too.

            But down at the Junction (Carleton Place), where, sweet, waters flow The broad  Mississippi, alive and aglow, Bill Nichols and Pattie, night, morning and noon, Jump like the old cow that jumped over the moon Today it is bridges, tomorrow the roads  For here is the chairman the biggest of toads, And dark grows the puddle of taxes and rates As they ever boost  Carleton bless their innocent  They, ride in a roller with a calliope’s  scream and each one is heading along  at full steam

             Now deep o’er the senses what strange fancies steal.  The hum of an engine, an automobile And Scott, hypnotizing, oh save his hair neck! The Bank has been charging exchange on a cheque! Oh, fly to the city, and fly to the town. The money rates surely must all tumble down.  I don’t give a vacuum for station or rank But give me, oh give me the run of the bank!

            But list to the bagpipes far over the lift.  The Campbell’s are coming to shovel the drift.  The wee German lairdie is up to his ears.  In billows  of snowdrifts, the worst of the years, so marching along comes the fierce   Highland Clan, kilted and plaided and pledged to a man The laird and his men from the Clyde will go through, and woe to the tyrant. Oh God save the King. The steel it shall flash and the claymore shall ring.

 -

Clipped from

  1. The Ottawa Citizen,
  2. 28 Oct 1937, Thu,
  3. Page 3

Newspaper Articles compiled by Grant McFarlane of Lanark.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

relatedreading

What Came First in Lanark County? The Chicken Or the Egg?

Lanark Era Vignettes-

Notes About The Lanark County Councilunnamed (1)

With files from The Keeper of the Scrapbooks — Christina ‘tina’  Camelon Buchanan — Thanks to Diane Juby— click here..

About lindaseccaspina

Before she laid her fingers to a keyboard, Linda was a fashion designer, and then owned the eclectic store Flash Cadilac and Savannah Devilles in Ottawa on Rideau Street from 1976-1996. She also did clothing for various media and worked on “You Can’t do that on Television”. After writing for years about things that she cared about or pissed her off on American media she finally found her calling. She is a weekly columnist for the Sherbrooke Record and documents history every single day and has over 6500 blogs about Lanark County and Ottawa and an enormous weekly readership. Linda has published six books and is in her 4th year as a town councillor for Carleton Place. She believes in community and promoting business owners because she believes she can, so she does.

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