Boxes

"A masterly account of empty boxes."—Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Sc. 1 (adapted)

Immortal William seldom fails To aid me with an apt quotation, But naught he gives me quite avails This case without slight adaptation.

'Tis told how when young Romeo Heard news of Juliet's end, ill-fated, Which was, although he didn't know, To quote Mark Twain, exaggerated.

He quickly sought the means whereby He'd end his own, and also where he Could purchase poison, when nearby He spied a poor apothecary.

It was a shop he called to mind Where set out on the shelves as proxies For honest goods, you'd mostly find A mean array of empty boxes.

But we have nothing like that here. Or any mean and false pretences. The B. C. box, of lumber clear, Though empty's full of excellencies.

For quality it's justly famed, That's only different grades of good, As set out in the order named— Spruce, hemlock, larch and cottonwood.

The London merchant has no doubt That ours excel in strength and beauty, Australia cannot keep them out Despite a high protective duty.

Soon they will blazon B. C.'s name At the Great Empire Exhibition, And with all modesty we claim They'll take the premier position.