Publication: Melbourne Herald
Date: 15 July 1922
Dere frend ows it goin. i see thers some tork in the papers about puttin up a bit of a brige down in the city that is goin to cost millyuns now i asks you why open millyuns on a thing like that when that drane betwen my place and bill smiths will only cost a few quid they tork a lot in the parliment about country develp- mint but so fur as we kin see its only tork the country gits the tork an the city gits the muny thats all we kin see to it. bill smith an me as bin torkin it over an we rekon with orl the murders an asasinashins an robrys an revlooshuns an things thats goin on in the outside world that the country places is the only places thats remanin sane. wots the matter with pushin orl them fools up ere to do a bit of ard yakker fer the good of ther soles an let me an bill smith come down an ave a good time fer a coupler weeks. mi wife as arst me to arst you is it a fack that some place in Urope is goin in fer bigamy as she seen in the paper they sez that theres too many wimin there an not enuff ouses mi wife sez tho the ouses aint to plentiful ere neether is the wimin but so fur as work in kinserned we cud do with a few more undred wimin. at the same time she sez it aint got to be forgotten that usbins is usbins an she got the idear that mi barwells skeem about bringing out boy imigrants aint a better skeem than unloadin the surplus wimin of Urope on this country. then she goes on frum that an digs up things i done ten year ago owever she an them turns at times hoppin you are the same Yours truly Ben Bowyang
Also published on 15 July 1922 in The Mooch of Life, under the name F.B.J.
Political Philosophy From a self-made politician to his son. Remember, boy, remember, when you play the grand old game, the river of Ambition doesn’t always flow to Fame. The best fed bird may not be he that never stayed in bed while early worms across the paths and through the gar- dens sped. The most successful gam- ester, ad (remember, I enjoin), is he who knows his business with a double- headed coin. But, lest I speak in riddles, let me make my meaning plain. Unless you make a noise, my son, your star will quickly wane. It matters not at whom or what your verbal bombs are thrown, the point, my lad, is simply this: You’ll live and die unknown, unless you swear that white is black or that the blues are green. Be novel, son, in your attack, and you will soon be seen. And fret not if your speeches lack the smallest grain of sense; the more foolhardy they may sound, the more the recompense. Declare that sugar must go up; that we should not be white; expose your friends, and you perchance, will find yourself a knight. The moral’s this: If you desire to hear your praises sung, forget your country and your sense — and lubricate your tongue. F.B.J.