COMPETITION

Wicked glee

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1609 you were asked for a song of wicked glee from a postman, bus driver, plumber or other such 'opera- tive', describing the things he does.

Plumbers easily came top of the unpopu- larity poll, taxi drivers, undertakers, publi- cans, garagemen, judges and railway clerks (or are they 'ticket operatives' these days?) all bearing a share of the public odium. P. I. Fell interestingly chose a poetry reader, and W. J. Webster an economic Pundit: 'I'm one of those chaps with a crystal ball/You always hear when the Markets fall.' But not a harsh word was Spoken against milkmen. Odd, that; mine's an amnesiac.

Satisfactory songs came from Ba Miller, Basil Ransome-Davies, E. 0. Parrott, C,_ 'Iris Tine, 0. Smith and Paul Griffin, °ut the money 416 apiece) goes to those

printed below. I hope they're all hiding behind pseudonyms; otherwise an offended 'operative' may exact a terrible vengeance. I'm sorry there's no drink this week. I've called the plumber, and the tap will soon be functioning normally.

A low-church operative — yes, A wicked curate — I Rejoice to take the michael And send things up on high.

Now swapping banns I rather like; Full many a blushing C Has heard me say she'll marry A Instead of marrying B.

At weddings I enjoin them both, 'Repeat just what I say'; The man's dismayed to find he's said He'll honour and obey.

Baptisms are the greatest fun:

I mix the babies' names,

And christen Dean as Wilhelmine, And Sarah Ann as James. (David Heaton) We are the wicked roofing men, we positively hamper Your efforts to protect your home and stop it getting damper; You may well not have heard of us, though we deserve wide fame, As every time we work we trade under a different name. We cover flat roofs with a messy mix of stones and pitch, Which looks a treat and costs a bloody bomb but here's the hitch: For every tiny crack from which the dampness is shut out We open up two more by stamping clumsily about.

We love to shock your neighbours with our streams of coarse abuse, And when we put up scaffolding it gives us an excuse To flatten all your daffodils and crocuses and such — We guarantee to bring you that uniquely loutish touch.

We are the wicked roofing men, we whistle from on high At schoolgirls and chuck debris down on ner- vous passers-by; We're really happy in our work — we think it's bloody funny To mess the customer about and charge him loadsamoney! (Peter Norman) A postman's on the Devil's side, A Lucifer reborn.

He'll never close a garden gate And he tramps across the lawn. He'll jam large packets in the flap To let the heating out, And when posh visitors are around `More bills today!' he'll shout.

He loves each Brassoed letter-box And on it prints his hands, And where Ihe path's been newly swept He drops his rubber bands.

He wakes the dogs, he kicks the milk, He cycles on the grass, And each delivery he makes Is strictly second-class. (D. A. Prince) I am the wicked dentist Of astronomic wealth.

My pearly gates don't grow on plates Within the National Health.

I mend the rotting molars Of the rich who've made their pile, I am the keeper of their teeth, Preserver of their smile.

From Verbier and Barbados They flock to London town, For I'm their pal when root canal Precedes the jacket crown.

My fees are monumental, But I know what I'm about; My wicked grin will pull 'em in, Then I can pull 'cm out. (Maureen Melvin) As a misanthropic plumber, With a warped and wicked mind, Anti-customer diversions Are a cinch for me to find.

There arc central-heating systems

To drain down and vandalise

In a bogus hunt for breakdowns That I've personally devised, And a jewel in my repertoire, A mirth-provoking must, Is a 'cure' for tank corrosion Which in fact prodUces rust.

But the one that really slays me, Truly makes me fall about, Is to be, in times of crisis, Perpetually OUT. (Philip A. Nicholson)