DREDGING AND GOLDFIELD RHYMES.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXXI, Issue 1574, 17 June 1899, Page 5

DREDGING AND GOLDFIELD RHYMES.

THE BLACK SAND TRICK

Every Saturday there is a crowd about the local bank, Of every tribe and nation, of every class and rank, With eyes and mouth wide open, and all on the qui-vive. And bumming round like young ’uns in a state of ecstasy. To see the weighted pockets that are almost like to split Of the dredger blokes as they come in to sell their little bit.

The Magnetic had been doing well, was on a dandy lead, The returns kept on increasing at a most alarming speed. And everyone expected last week would top the lot, And the Electric company’s record she would easily out-blot. But the return was only middling, so Kitto just for fun, Prepared a trick to have the crowd, which was most smartly done.

He dried a lot of black sand, about a stone or more, And with it on his buggy, dismounted at the door. The crowd as usual gathered round. to get a good old sight, And when Kitto dragged the bag forth, they danced with great delight. Some one exclaimed, ‘ You’ve struck it Jack, I knew it could be done, 5 ‘Oh ! Yes,’ says Kitto quietly, a ‘record I have won.’

The news spread round like lightning, she’d got a thousand nigh, And people rushed the G.P.0., and wired ‘ Magnetic’s buy,’ While others thought out carefully the many things they’d get With the dividend foith coming, they would be toffs you bet., But at five o’clock their faces dropped, and all looked* mighty sick, When they found they had been taken in with Kitto’s ‘black sand trick.’ Txttie Ko War ah, Bannockburn.