And started to shriek in contralto—
Them shrieked in soprano instead.
Then, seizing young Sam by the handle,
She shrieked her way out into road
And ran shrieking right up the High Street—
While little Sam purled and he blowed :
So seeking to cool her hot urchin,
She bought him an ice at a cafe ;
And suddenly truth dawned upon her—
Her husband had bunked with a W.A.F.
Deserted, dejected, desperate,
Her World tumbled down in a heap,
For how could she earn honest penny
With Dear Little Sammy to keep?
Then wonderful thought dawned upon her
How best she could make tidy hoard—
Searching for Mines on the foreshore
And claiming old Neville's reward.
She made her way.down to the ocean
With dear little Sam at her side—
And spotted a solitary figure
Like something washed up by the tide,
Dressed in his best next-to-nothings,
A far-away look in his eyes,
Sunk in a strange sort of stupor,
Surrounded with little mud-pies.
  He sat there in dazed contemplation,
Surveying the oodles of sand,
Exhausted by turning out doings
With Bucket-and-Spade in his hand.
The tears trickled down from his tear-ducts
And faster and faster they flowed
As, plucked from his heart-strings, came lament,
"I'll never get through this 'ere load!"
Bewildered, bemused and B...(careful! )...
Sam followed his spouse from the strand
While dear little Sam dug for victory
With bucket-and-spade in his hand.
The rest of his Annual was peaceful
You'll all be most happy to learn,
For Sam left the Mental Asylum
The day he was due to return,
And now that his Annual is ended
And all but a memory is gone,
His suit has come back from the cleaners,
Pyjamas are once more in pawn,
Our Sam is again at his labours,
Supplying the constant demand,
Faithfully filling up Sandbags -
With Bucket-and-Spade in his hand.
Continue Return