Guerrillas
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D. Spencer Hines - 24 Feb 2008 18:08 GMT Napoleonic Wars -- in Spain.
Duke of Wellington:
1809 Wellington in Gurw. _Desp._ (1835) V. 9, I have recommended to the Junta to set.. the Guerrillas to work towards Madrid.
OED, Second Edition
DSH
Lux et Veritas et Libertas -------------------------------------------------------------------
"La N" <nilita2004NOSPAM@yahoo.com> wrote in message news:eagwj.38484$FO1.32337@edtnps82...
> When did the term "guerilla" [sic] first come to be used, and in what > context? > > - nilita D. Spencer Hines - 24 Feb 2008 18:15 GMT Napoleonic Wars -- in Spain.
Duke of Wellington:
1809 Wellington in Gurw. _Desp._ (1835) V. 9, I have recommended to the Junta to set.. the Guerrillas to work towards Madrid.
OED, Second Edition
From the Spanish, of course:
Guerra = War
DSH
Lux et Veritas et Libertas -------------------------------------------------------------------
> When did the term "guerilla" [sic] first come to be used, and in what > context? > > - nilita Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 18:19 GMT "D. Spencer Hines" <panther@excelsior.com> wrote in message news:dviwj.745
Some Scottish culture, courtesy of spencer Hines.
The Destroying Angel or The Poet's Dream I dreamt a dream the other night That an Angel appeared to me, clothed in white. Oh! it was a beautiful sight, Such as filled my heart with delight.
And in her hand she held a flaming brand, Which she waved above her head most grand; And on me she glared with love-beaming eyes, Then she commanded me from my bed to arise.
And in a sweet voice she said, "You must follow me, And in a short time you shall see The destruction of all the public-houses in the city, Which is, my friend, the God of Heaven's decree."
Then from my bed in fear I arose, And quickly donned on my clothes; And when that was done she said, " Follow me Direct to the High Street, fearlessly."
So with the beautiful Angel away I did go, And when we arrived at the High Street, Oh! what a show, I suppose there were about five thousand men there, All vowing vengeance against the publicans, I do declare.
Then the Angel cried with a solemn voice aloud To that vast and Godly assembled crowd, "Gentlemen belonging the fair City of Dundee, Remember I have been sent here by God to warn ye.
"That by God's decree ye must take up arms and follow me And wreck all the public-houses in this fair City, Because God cannot countenance such dens of iniquity. Therefore, friends of God, come, follow me.
"Because God has said there's no use preaching against strong drink, Therefore, by taking up arms against it, God does think, That is the only and the effectual cure To banish it from the land, He is quite sure.
"Besides, it has been denounced in Dundee for fifty years By the friends of Temperance, while oft they have shed tears. Therefore, God thinks there's no use denouncing it any longer, Because the more that's said against it seemingly it grows stronger."
And while the Angel was thus addressing the people, The Devil seemed to be standing on the Townhouse Steeple, Foaming at the mouth with rage, and seemingly much annoyed, And kicking the Steeple because the public-houses wore going to be destroyed.
Then the Angel cried, " Satan, avaunt! begone!" Then he vanished in the flame, to the amazement of everyone; And waving aloft the flaming brand, That she carried in her right hand
She cried, "Now, friends of the Temperance cause, follow me: For remember if's God's high decree To destroy all the public-houses in this fair City; Therefore, friends of God, let's commence this war immediately."
Then from the High Street we all did retire, As the Angel, sent by God, did desire; And along the Perth Road we all did go, While the Angel set fire to the public-houses along that row.
And when the Perth Road public-houses were fired, she cried, " Follow me, And next I'll fire the Hawkhill public-houses instantly." Then away we went with the Angel, without dread or woe, And she fired the Hawkhill public-houses as onward we did go.
Then she cried, "Let's on to the Scouringburn, in God's name." And away to the Scouringburn we went, with our hearts aflame, As the destroying Angel did command. And when there she fired the public-houses, which looked very grand.
And when the public-houses there were blazing like a kiln, She cried, " Now, my friends, we'll march to the Bonnet Hill, And we'll fire the dens of iniquity without dismay, Therefore let's march on, my friends, without delay."
And when we arrived at the Bonnet Hill, The Angel fired the public-houses, as she did well. Then she cried, "We'll leave them now to their fate, And march on to the Murraygate."
Then we marched on to the Murraygate, And the Angel fired the public-houses there, a most deserving fate. Then to the High Street we marched and fired them there, Which was a most beautiful blaze, I do declare.
And on the High Street, old men and women were gathered there, And as the flames ascended upwards, in amazement they did stare When they saw the public-houses in a blaze, But they clapped their hands with joy and to God gave praise.
Then the Angel cried, "Thank God, Christ's Kingdom's near at hand, And there will soon be peace and plenty throughout the land, And the ravages of the demon Drink no more will be seen." But, alas, I started up in bed, and behold it was a dream!
Ray O'Hara - 24 Feb 2008 18:40 GMT > Napoleonic Wars -- in Spain. > > > When did the term "guerilla" [sic] first come to be used, and in what > > context? > > > > - nilita it means little war. its from the napoleonic penninsula campaign in spain. so effective was it that any courier had to be accompanied by a squadron of cavalry and 3/4s of the french forces in spain were tied down by them.
Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 18:42 GMT "Ray O'Hara" <mary.palmucci@rcn.com> wrote in message
Some Scottish culture, courtesy of spencer Hines.
The Destroying Angel or The Poet's Dream I dreamt a dream the other night That an Angel appeared to me, clothed in white. Oh! it was a beautiful sight, Such as filled my heart with delight.
And in her hand she held a flaming brand, Which she waved above her head most grand; And on me she glared with love-beaming eyes, Then she commanded me from my bed to arise.
And in a sweet voice she said, "You must follow me, And in a short time you shall see The destruction of all the public-houses in the city, Which is, my friend, the God of Heaven's decree."
Then from my bed in fear I arose, And quickly donned on my clothes; And when that was done she said, " Follow me Direct to the High Street, fearlessly."
So with the beautiful Angel away I did go, And when we arrived at the High Street, Oh! what a show, I suppose there were about five thousand men there, All vowing vengeance against the publicans, I do declare.
Then the Angel cried with a solemn voice aloud To that vast and Godly assembled crowd, "Gentlemen belonging the fair City of Dundee, Remember I have been sent here by God to warn ye.
"That by God's decree ye must take up arms and follow me And wreck all the public-houses in this fair City, Because God cannot countenance such dens of iniquity. Therefore, friends of God, come, follow me.
"Because God has said there's no use preaching against strong drink, Therefore, by taking up arms against it, God does think, That is the only and the effectual cure To banish it from the land, He is quite sure.
"Besides, it has been denounced in Dundee for fifty years By the friends of Temperance, while oft they have shed tears. Therefore, God thinks there's no use denouncing it any longer, Because the more that's said against it seemingly it grows stronger."
And while the Angel was thus addressing the people, The Devil seemed to be standing on the Townhouse Steeple, Foaming at the mouth with rage, and seemingly much annoyed, And kicking the Steeple because the public-houses wore going to be destroyed.
Then the Angel cried, " Satan, avaunt! begone!" Then he vanished in the flame, to the amazement of everyone; And waving aloft the flaming brand, That she carried in her right hand
She cried, "Now, friends of the Temperance cause, follow me: For remember if's God's high decree To destroy all the public-houses in this fair City; Therefore, friends of God, let's commence this war immediately."
Then from the High Street we all did retire, As the Angel, sent by God, did desire; And along the Perth Road we all did go, While the Angel set fire to the public-houses along that row.
And when the Perth Road public-houses were fired, she cried, " Follow me, And next I'll fire the Hawkhill public-houses instantly." Then away we went with the Angel, without dread or woe, And she fired the Hawkhill public-houses as onward we did go.
Then she cried, "Let's on to the Scouringburn, in God's name." And away to the Scouringburn we went, with our hearts aflame, As the destroying Angel did command. And when there she fired the public-houses, which looked very grand.
And when the public-houses there were blazing like a kiln, She cried, " Now, my friends, we'll march to the Bonnet Hill, And we'll fire the dens of iniquity without dismay, Therefore let's march on, my friends, without delay."
And when we arrived at the Bonnet Hill, The Angel fired the public-houses, as she did well. Then she cried, "We'll leave them now to their fate, And march on to the Murraygate."
Then we marched on to the Murraygate, And the Angel fired the public-houses there, a most deserving fate. Then to the High Street we marched and fired them there, Which was a most beautiful blaze, I do declare.
And on the High Street, old men and women were gathered there, And as the flames ascended upwards, in amazement they did stare When they saw the public-houses in a blaze, But they clapped their hands with joy and to God gave praise.
Then the Angel cried, "Thank God, Christ's Kingdom's near at hand, And there will soon be peace and plenty throughout the land, And the ravages of the demon Drink no more will be seen." But, alas, I started up in bed, and behold it was a dream!
Peter Jason - 24 Feb 2008 20:40 GMT >> Napoleonic Wars -- in Spain. >> "La N" <nilita2004NOSPAM@yahoo.com> wrote [quoted text clipped - 13 lines] > cavalry and 3/4s of the french forces in > spain were tied down by them. They're still at it in Basque country.
Of course the correct spelling is "b-a-n-d-i-t".
Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 18:18 GMT "D. Spencer Hines" <panther@excelsior.com> wrote in message news:gpiwj.744
Some Scottish culture, courtesy of spencer Hines.
The Destroying Angel or The Poet's Dream I dreamt a dream the other night That an Angel appeared to me, clothed in white. Oh! it was a beautiful sight, Such as filled my heart with delight.
And in her hand she held a flaming brand, Which she waved above her head most grand; And on me she glared with love-beaming eyes, Then she commanded me from my bed to arise.
And in a sweet voice she said, "You must follow me, And in a short time you shall see The destruction of all the public-houses in the city, Which is, my friend, the God of Heaven's decree."
Then from my bed in fear I arose, And quickly donned on my clothes; And when that was done she said, " Follow me Direct to the High Street, fearlessly."
So with the beautiful Angel away I did go, And when we arrived at the High Street, Oh! what a show, I suppose there were about five thousand men there, All vowing vengeance against the publicans, I do declare.
Then the Angel cried with a solemn voice aloud To that vast and Godly assembled crowd, "Gentlemen belonging the fair City of Dundee, Remember I have been sent here by God to warn ye.
"That by God's decree ye must take up arms and follow me And wreck all the public-houses in this fair City, Because God cannot countenance such dens of iniquity. Therefore, friends of God, come, follow me.
"Because God has said there's no use preaching against strong drink, Therefore, by taking up arms against it, God does think, That is the only and the effectual cure To banish it from the land, He is quite sure.
"Besides, it has been denounced in Dundee for fifty years By the friends of Temperance, while oft they have shed tears. Therefore, God thinks there's no use denouncing it any longer, Because the more that's said against it seemingly it grows stronger."
And while the Angel was thus addressing the people, The Devil seemed to be standing on the Townhouse Steeple, Foaming at the mouth with rage, and seemingly much annoyed, And kicking the Steeple because the public-houses wore going to be destroyed.
Then the Angel cried, " Satan, avaunt! begone!" Then he vanished in the flame, to the amazement of everyone; And waving aloft the flaming brand, That she carried in her right hand
She cried, "Now, friends of the Temperance cause, follow me: For remember if's God's high decree To destroy all the public-houses in this fair City; Therefore, friends of God, let's commence this war immediately."
Then from the High Street we all did retire, As the Angel, sent by God, did desire; And along the Perth Road we all did go, While the Angel set fire to the public-houses along that row.
And when the Perth Road public-houses were fired, she cried, " Follow me, And next I'll fire the Hawkhill public-houses instantly." Then away we went with the Angel, without dread or woe, And she fired the Hawkhill public-houses as onward we did go.
Then she cried, "Let's on to the Scouringburn, in God's name." And away to the Scouringburn we went, with our hearts aflame, As the destroying Angel did command. And when there she fired the public-houses, which looked very grand.
And when the public-houses there were blazing like a kiln, She cried, " Now, my friends, we'll march to the Bonnet Hill, And we'll fire the dens of iniquity without dismay, Therefore let's march on, my friends, without delay."
And when we arrived at the Bonnet Hill, The Angel fired the public-houses, as she did well. Then she cried, "We'll leave them now to their fate, And march on to the Murraygate."
Then we marched on to the Murraygate, And the Angel fired the public-houses there, a most deserving fate. Then to the High Street we marched and fired them there, Which was a most beautiful blaze, I do declare.
And on the High Street, old men and women were gathered there, And as the flames ascended upwards, in amazement they did stare When they saw the public-houses in a blaze, But they clapped their hands with joy and to God gave praise.
Then the Angel cried, "Thank God, Christ's Kingdom's near at hand, And there will soon be peace and plenty throughout the land, And the ravages of the demon Drink no more will be seen." But, alas, I started up in bed, and behold it was a dream!
Jack Linthicum - 24 Feb 2008 18:46 GMT > "D. Spencer Hines" <pant...@excelsior.com> wrote in message news:gpiwj.744 > [quoted text clipped - 102 lines] > And the ravages of the demon Drink no more will be seen." > But, alas, I started up in bed, and behold it was a dream! Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 18:49 GMT "Jack Linthicum" <jacklinthicum@earthlink.net> wrote in message news:eee3934f-
Some Scottish culture, courtesy of spencer Hines.
The Destroying Angel or The Poet's Dream I dreamt a dream the other night That an Angel appeared to me, clothed in white. Oh! it was a beautiful sight, Such as filled my heart with delight.
And in her hand she held a flaming brand, Which she waved above her head most grand; And on me she glared with love-beaming eyes, Then she commanded me from my bed to arise.
And in a sweet voice she said, "You must follow me, And in a short time you shall see The destruction of all the public-houses in the city, Which is, my friend, the God of Heaven's decree."
Then from my bed in fear I arose, And quickly donned on my clothes; And when that was done she said, " Follow me Direct to the High Street, fearlessly."
So with the beautiful Angel away I did go, And when we arrived at the High Street, Oh! what a show, I suppose there were about five thousand men there, All vowing vengeance against the publicans, I do declare.
Then the Angel cried with a solemn voice aloud To that vast and Godly assembled crowd, "Gentlemen belonging the fair City of Dundee, Remember I have been sent here by God to warn ye.
"That by God's decree ye must take up arms and follow me And wreck all the public-houses in this fair City, Because God cannot countenance such dens of iniquity. Therefore, friends of God, come, follow me.
"Because God has said there's no use preaching against strong drink, Therefore, by taking up arms against it, God does think, That is the only and the effectual cure To banish it from the land, He is quite sure.
"Besides, it has been denounced in Dundee for fifty years By the friends of Temperance, while oft they have shed tears. Therefore, God thinks there's no use denouncing it any longer, Because the more that's said against it seemingly it grows stronger."
And while the Angel was thus addressing the people, The Devil seemed to be standing on the Townhouse Steeple, Foaming at the mouth with rage, and seemingly much annoyed, And kicking the Steeple because the public-houses wore going to be destroyed.
Then the Angel cried, " Satan, avaunt! begone!" Then he vanished in the flame, to the amazement of everyone; And waving aloft the flaming brand, That she carried in her right hand
She cried, "Now, friends of the Temperance cause, follow me: For remember if's God's high decree To destroy all the public-houses in this fair City; Therefore, friends of God, let's commence this war immediately."
Then from the High Street we all did retire, As the Angel, sent by God, did desire; And along the Perth Road we all did go, While the Angel set fire to the public-houses along that row.
And when the Perth Road public-houses were fired, she cried, " Follow me, And next I'll fire the Hawkhill public-houses instantly." Then away we went with the Angel, without dread or woe, And she fired the Hawkhill public-houses as onward we did go.
Then she cried, "Let's on to the Scouringburn, in God's name." And away to the Scouringburn we went, with our hearts aflame, As the destroying Angel did command. And when there she fired the public-houses, which looked very grand.
And when the public-houses there were blazing like a kiln, She cried, " Now, my friends, we'll march to the Bonnet Hill, And we'll fire the dens of iniquity without dismay, Therefore let's march on, my friends, without delay."
And when we arrived at the Bonnet Hill, The Angel fired the public-houses, as she did well. Then she cried, "We'll leave them now to their fate, And march on to the Murraygate."
Then we marched on to the Murraygate, And the Angel fired the public-houses there, a most deserving fate. Then to the High Street we marched and fired them there, Which was a most beautiful blaze, I do declare.
And on the High Street, old men and women were gathered there, And as the flames ascended upwards, in amazement they did stare When they saw the public-houses in a blaze, But they clapped their hands with joy and to God gave praise.
Then the Angel cried, "Thank God, Christ's Kingdom's near at hand, And there will soon be peace and plenty throughout the land, And the ravages of the demon Drink no more will be seen." But, alas, I started up in bed, and behold it was a dream!
La N - 24 Feb 2008 19:32 GMT >> "D. Spencer Hines" <pant...@excelsior.com> wrote in message >> news:gpiwj.744 [quoted text clipped - 103 lines] >> And the ravages of the demon Drink no more will be seen." >> But, alas, I started up in bed, and behold it was a dream! The nebulizer of s.c.s. is back to his guerrilla tactics against various Usenet groups again, eh?
Well, here is a poem I found and which I dedicate to Nebulous, the Freedom Fighter of soc.culture.scottish!:
Draw the Sword, Scotland!
G. R. Planche
Draw the sword, Scotland, Scotland, Scotland! Over moor and mountain hath passed the war-sign; The pibroch is pealing, pealing, pealing; Who heeds not the summons is nae son o' thine. The clans they are gathering, gathering, gathering, The clans they are gathering by loch and by sea. The banners they are flying, flying, flying, The banners they are flying to lead to victory. Draw the sword, Scotland, Scotland, Scotland! Charge as you've charged in the days o' lang-syne; Sound to the onset, the onset, the onset, He who but falters is nae son o' thine.
Sheathe the sword, Scotland, Scotland, Scotland! Sheathe the sword, Scotland, for dimm'd is its shine. The foemen are fleeing, fleeing, fleeing, And who kens nae mercy is nae son o' thine! The struggle is over, over, over, The struggle is over! - the victory won! There are tears for the fallen, the fallen, the fallen, And glory for all who their duty have done! Sheathe the sword, Scotland, Scotland, Scotland! With thy loved thistle new laurels entwine; Time shall ne'er part them, part them, part them, But hand down the garland to each son o' thine.
- nilita
Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 19:51 GMT "La N" <nilita2004NOSPAM@yahoo.com> wrote in message news:YCjwj.38638
Jenny Carrister, The Heroine of Lucknow-Mine A HEROIC story I will unfold, Concerning Jenny Carrister, a heroine bold, Who lived in Australia, at a gold mine called Lucknow, And Jenny was beloved by the the miners, somehow.
Jenny was the only daughter of the old lady who owned the mine- And Jenny would come of an evening, like a gleam of sunshine, And by the presence of her bright face and cheery voice, She made the hearts of the unlucky diggers rejoice.
There was no pride about her, and day after day, She walked with her young brother, who was always gay, A beautiful boy he was, about thirteen years old, And Jenny and her brother by the miners were greatly extolled.
Old Mrs Carrister was every inch a lady in her way, Because she never pressed any of the miners that weren't able to pay For the liberty of working the gold-field, Which was thirty pounds per week for whatever it might yield.
It was in the early part of the year 1871, That Jack Allingford, a miner, hit on a plan, That in the mine, with powder, he'd loosen the granite-bound face, So he selected, as he thought, a most suitable place.
And when all his arrangements had been made, He was lowered down by a miner that felt a little afraid, But most fortunately Jenny Carrister came up at the time, Just as Jack Allingford was lowered into the mine.
Then she asked the man at the windlass if he'd had any luck, But he picked up a piece of candle and then a match he struck; Then Jenny asked the miner, What is that for? And he replied to blast the mine, which I fear and abhor.
Then with a piece of rope he lowered the candle and matches into the mine, While brave Jenny watched the action all the time; And as the man continued to turn round the windlass handle, Jenny asked him, Isn't it dangerous to lower the matches and candle?
Then the man replied, I hope there's no danger, Jenny, my lass, But whatsoever God has ordained will come to pass; And just as he said so the windlass handle swung round, And struck him on the forehead, and he fell to the ground.
And when Jenny saw the blood streaming from the fallen man's head, She rushed to the mouth of the shaft without any dread, And Jenny called loudly, but received no reply, So to her brother standing near by she heaved a deep sigh.
Telling him to run for assistance, while she swung herself on to the hand-rope, Resolved to save Jack Allingford's life as she earnestly did hope; And as she proceeded down the shaft at a quick pace, The brave heroine knew that death was staring her in the face.
And the rope was burning her hands as she descended, But she thought if she saved Jack her task would be ended; And when she reached the bottom of the mine she did not hesitate, But bounding towards Jack Allingford, who was lying seemingly inanimate.
And as she approached his body the hissing fuse burst upon her ears, But still the noble girl no danger fears; While the hissing of the fuse was like an engine grinding upon her brain, Still she resolved to save Jack while life in her body did remain.
She noticed a small jet of smoke issuing from a hole near his head, And if he'd lain a few seconds longer there he'd been killed dead, But God had sent an angel to his rescue, For seizing him by the arms his body to the air shaft she drew.
It was a supernatural effort, but she succeeded at last, And Jenny thanked God when the danger was past, But at the same instant the silence was broke By a loud explosion, which soon filled the mine with smoke.
But, oh, God be thanked! the greatest danger was past, But when Jenny saw Jack Allingford, she stood aghast, Because the blood was issuing from his nest and ears, And as Jenny viewed his wounds she shed many tears.
But heroic Jenny was not one of the fainting sort, For immediately to the mouth of the mine she did resort, And she called loudly for help, the noble lass, And her cry was answered by voices above at the windlass.
So there were plenty to volunteer their services below, And the rope was attached to the windlass, and down they did go, And Jack Allingford and Jenny were raised to the top, While Jenny, noble soul, with exhaustion was like to drop.
And when the miners saw her safe above there was a burst of applause, Because she had rescued Jack Allingford from death's jaws; So all ye that read or hear this story, I have but to say, That Jenny Carrister was the noblest heroine I've ever heard of in my day.
James Hogg - 24 Feb 2008 19:12 GMT >Napoleonic Wars -- in Spain. > [quoted text clipped - 12 lines] >> When did the term "guerilla" [sic] first come to be used, and in what >> context? Naughty Nilita, you spelled the word with just one r.
What Mr Hines forgot to mention when quoting from the OED is that the headword reads:
"Guerrilla, guerilla"
which shows that the spelling with two r's is preferred but the spelling with one r is perfectly acceptable.
The dictionary has 18 quotations from the 19th century, and only 2 of these have the spelling with two r's. One of these is Wellington, writing in 1809. By 1811 Sir Walter Scott was using the spelling you have chosen.
Anyway, I thought Hines had given up worrying about niceties like this, with reference to he who wrote to Safire.
James
La N - 24 Feb 2008 19:18 GMT >>Napoleonic Wars -- in Spain. >> [quoted text clipped - 30 lines] > Anyway, I thought Hines had given up worrying about niceties like > this, with reference to he who wrote to Safire. I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have been with 2 r's, since "war" in Spanish is "guerra". Or, I could have been thinking of "gorilla". Who knows. I've done my bit for mankind. I've given Hines a reason to poast today.
- nilita
Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 19:29 GMT "La N" <nilita2004NOSPAM@yahoo.com> wrote in message news:fqjwj.38625
Little Popeet: The Lost Child Near by the silent waters of the Mediterranean, And at the door of an old hut stood a coloured man, Whose dress was oriental in style and poor with wear, While adown his furrowed cheeks ran many a tear.
And the poor coloured man seemed very discontent, And his grief overcame him at this moment; And he wrung his hands in agony wild, And he cried, "Oh! help me, great God, to find my child."
"And Ada, my dear wife, but now she is dead, Which fills my poor heart with sorrow and dread; She was a very loving wife, but of her I'm bereft, And I and my lost child are only left.
And, alas! I know not where to find my boy, Who is dear to me and my only joy; But with the help of God I will find him, And this day in search of him I will begin."
So Medoo leaves Turkey and goes to France, Expecting to find his boy there perhaps by chance; And while there in Paris he was told His boy by an Arab had been sold
To a company of French players that performed in the street, Which was sad news to hear about his boy Popeet; And while searching for him and making great moan, He was told he was ill and in Madame Mercy's Home.
Then away went Medoo with his heart full of joy, To gaze upon the face of his long-lost boy; Who had been treated by the players mercilessly, But was taken to the home of Madame Celeste.
She was a member of the players and the leader's wife, And she loved the boy Popeet as dear as her life, Because she had no children of her own; And for the poor ill-treated boy often she did moan.
And when Popeet's father visited the Home, He was shown into a room where Popeet lay alone, Pale and emaciated, in his little bed; And when his father saw him he thought he was dead.
And when Popeet saw his father he lept out of bed, And only that his father caught him he'd been killed dead; And his father cried, " Popeet, my own darling boy, Thank God I've found you, and my heart's full of joy."
Then Madame Mercy's tears fell thick and fast, When she saw that Popeet had found his father at last; Then poor Popeet was taken home without delay, And lived happy with his father for many a day.
The Fifeshire Bimbo - 26 Feb 2008 21:47 GMT > I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have been > with 2 r's, since "war" in Spanish is "guerra". Or, I could have been > thinking of "gorilla". Who knows. I've done my bit for mankind. I've > given Hines a reason to poast today. Is that a typo? Should that have been a 'b' rather than a 'p' in the last line?
John Briggs - 26 Feb 2008 21:56 GMT >> I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have >> been with 2 r's, since "war" in Spanish is "guerra". Or, I could [quoted text clipped - 3 lines] > Is that a typo? Should that have been a 'b' rather than a 'p' in the > last line? It's a portmanteau word...
 Signature John Briggs
Jack Linthicum - 26 Feb 2008 22:12 GMT > >> I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have > >> been with 2 r's, since "war" in Spanish is "guerra". Or, I could [quoted text clipped - 7 lines] > -- > John Briggs and a herbicide
http://www.greenbook.net/Docs/Label/L26409.pdf
Ray O'Hara - 27 Feb 2008 22:13 GMT > > I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have been > > with 2 r's, since "war" in Spanish is "guerra". Or, I could have been [quoted text clipped - 3 lines] > Is that a typo? Should that have been a 'b' rather than a 'p' in the last > line? the A is the typo post not poast.
La N - 27 Feb 2008 22:45 GMT >> > I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have >> > been [quoted text clipped - 7 lines] > the A is the typo > post not poast. It was not a typo. Alternative spellings for "post" are "poast" and "poste". I've seen them both used on Usenet, therefore it must be so! ... ;)
- nilita
Ray O'Hara - 27 Feb 2008 23:53 GMT > >> > I've seen it spelled both ways, but my default position should have > >> > been [quoted text clipped - 13 lines] > > - nilita i see "teh" for "the" too,
the net is chock full of stuff.
The Fifeshire Bimbo - 29 Feb 2008 21:29 GMT > "The Fifeshire Bimbo" <htr@awa.an.bile.yer.heid.com> wrote >> [quoted text clipped - 8 lines] > the A is the typo > post not poast. Whoosh!
Nebulous - 24 Feb 2008 19:30 GMT "James Hogg" <Jas.HoggOUT@SPAM.gmail.com> wrote in message
Little Popeet: The Lost Child Near by the silent waters of the Mediterranean, And at the door of an old hut stood a coloured man, Whose dress was oriental in style and poor with wear, While adown his furrowed cheeks ran many a tear.
And the poor coloured man seemed very discontent, And his grief overcame him at this moment; And he wrung his hands in agony wild, And he cried, "Oh! help me, great God, to find my child."
"And Ada, my dear wife, but now she is dead, Which fills my poor heart with sorrow and dread; She was a very loving wife, but of her I'm bereft, And I and my lost child are only left.
And, alas! I know not where to find my boy, Who is dear to me and my only joy; But with the help of God I will find him, And this day in search of him I will begin."
So Medoo leaves Turkey and goes to France, Expecting to find his boy there perhaps by chance; And while there in Paris he was told His boy by an Arab had been sold
To a company of French players that performed in the street, Which was sad news to hear about his boy Popeet; And while searching for him and making great moan, He was told he was ill and in Madame Mercy's Home.
Then away went Medoo with his heart full of joy, To gaze upon the face of his long-lost boy; Who had been treated by the players mercilessly, But was taken to the home of Madame Celeste.
She was a member of the players and the leader's wife, And she loved the boy Popeet as dear as her life, Because she had no children of her own; And for the poor ill-treated boy often she did moan.
And when Popeet's father visited the Home, He was shown into a room where Popeet lay alone, Pale and emaciated, in his little bed; And when his father saw him he thought he was dead.
And when Popeet saw his father he lept out of bed, And only that his father caught him he'd been killed dead; And his father cried, " Popeet, my own darling boy, Thank God I've found you, and my heart's full of joy."
Then Madame Mercy's tears fell thick and fast, When she saw that Popeet had found his father at last; Then poor Popeet was taken home without delay, And lived happy with his father for many a day.
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