../Monologues
 
../Monologues
 
 

BURIED TREASURE
by
Eric Tate


The Old Man I worked for, was really so tight
When I spent his money, he always took fright!
If I spent a dollar
He'd usually holler.
"I'm ruined; the way you treat money so light"

As secretary, I knew his every affair,
I knew how much was hidden, and I knew where!
He was so greedy,
Always dressed seedy,
Yet a fortune was hidden nearby, somewhere.

His poor wife, in struggling to make ends meet,
While she was keeping the house looking neat,
She was fully aware
Of how much lay where,
He spurned bank accounts. She kept HERS complete!

He made her promise, with his final rest,
All of his money would be laid on his chest!
"This loot that I have looked after so well
It's still all mine: come heaven or hell!"
She kept to this promise... By doing her best.

Following orders, we did nothing rash.
His wife and I searched, till we'd done our dash.
As that money mounted,
And her Bank accounted
Her cheque pinned to his chest was made out to "CASH"!

 

 

 
VISITORS' SUBMISSIONS
 
 
And many more...
 

 
HOME - OLD FAVOURITES
MORE OLD FAVOURITES
TRADITION CONTINUES
FIRST LADIES OF COMEDY
TALL STORIES
DRAMATIC PIECES
THE MILITARY
SEAFARIN' YARNS
RAILWAY TALES
SPORT
CHILDHOOD FAVOURITES
PARODIES
ADVERTISING
ANONYMOUS VERSE
ALMOST SHAKESPEARE
MORE ALBERT
SKETCHES & STORIES
LIMERICKS
COMIC SONGS
VISITOR'S SUBMISSIONS
 

 
MESSAGE BOARD
On-site shopping
ON-SITE SHOPPING