THE DIGGER’S FAREWELL

Greymouth Evening Star, 25 February 1928, Page 39 (Supplement)

THE DIGGER’S FAREWELL

On the Wharf, 1874

Just as you say, Sir; Oft once more 0 The Palmer River too. That’s my way. e Landed in August, ’64, u Ten years struggling on the Grey, e Knew it when all this street was scrub it And old Waite kept the only store. s Have I made my fortune? Ah! there’s the rub; ?• If you mean chaffing, say no more. e t 1 Fever and ague over there, ? The exception possibly scarce the 3 rule; Snakes and darkies. It’s- hardly fair 1 To treat us miners like kids at ' r school. f Ten years ago when we landed here, ; In a country trackless, wet and cold, ■ We went through a spell that was ; pretty severe. Who thinks of hardship looking for gold? Government helped us—possibly, p’raps; Didn’t do much that’s worth a song. Diggers, you see, are the kind of chaps As don’t want much to push ’em along. Latterly gold has been hard to find. I’ve enough to carry me; none to spend; Going away and leaving behind Not one deserving the name of friend. No one to mourn for when the strand Far, far behind grows blue and dim; None left either throughout the land To send me a sigh,—unless little Jem Jem, short for Jemima, one of the ' girls Up at the dance-house on the Creek. Not one of your regular sort, —all ; curls And Grecian bends, paint, and cheek But a quiet girl, who says one night As I was a fooling over the bar Spending my money and getting tight: ' “Jack,” says she, “What a muff you are, You won’t be always' on rattling gold; Your smiling friends will soon learn to frown. i You know how to make it—learn to hold. Will these fellows help you when your down?” 1 Well, perhaps, that night I dreamed d’ye see, Of a cottage and garden by the stream, With Jemima to keep things straight for me. But the morning came, and ’twas only a dream, For the ground was pretty near duffered out. And Bill (that’s my mate) he says to me, gold at the Palmer beyond all doubt, So here’s for over the sea.” There’s the whistle! A drink before I start A step to the corner that’s all you say. My last in New Zealand! with all my heart; ' Mine’s brandy, straight, and then s I’m away, With a long farewell to the old West Coast ; With a heart prepared for whatever I find. “Success to the Palmer” Is that your ( toast? Then “Here’s to the land that we leave behind.