A thousand people rushed the cable trams on the "farewell run" from Port Melbourne. Windows and shutters were smashed, five cars damaged and handrails, bell-straps and destination signs torn away and carried off by souvenir hunters. - News Report
I'm a souvenir collector With a very avid flair, I've odd's and ends I and my friends Have filched from here and there. In a secret den I hoard them up; And when abroad I roam, In countryside or crowded town, I slyly mark my booty down, And bring a fragment home. I've a window pane from an aeroplane That made a record hop; I've a button torn from the tunic worn By a foully slaughtered cop. I've a marble-chip from the under-lip Of a statue in a park, And a leaf I took from a rare old book In a li'bry after dark. All ticketed and labelled As to places, names and dates, I've ash-trays, mugs And china jugs, Door-knobs and number-plates From various pubs and sporting clubs And public trams and trains. And, best of all, my hobby's cheap, For I have learned long since to keep Alert, and use my brains. I've walking sticks and bits of bricks And brass-plates, slightly bent; I've a withered wreath sneaked from beneath A public monument. I've lace from the dress of a real princess And a champion's cricket bat From a Test-match, see. What? Sneak-thief! Me? I'll summons you for that!
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2007|