THE PIRATES OF PARIHAKA.

Observer, Volume 3, Issue 61, 12 November 1881, Page 132

THE PIRATES OF PARIHAKA.

abridged erom the pi-rates of pen's aunts. (Bt the Imprisoned Reporter.) ACT I. SCENE. — A Maori villaye on the Plains of Waimate. Opening Chorus. Tohu. Bring, oh bring the sAvect potato ; Kill, oh kill the sucking pig ; And Avc'll hold a jubilato, While the potent rum avc swig. Solo. ) For to-day our mighty prophet Tohu 3 Will the pakehas defy, And Avili send thorn all to Tophet In the twinkling of an eye. All. Here's good luck to old Te* Whiti, He's a mighty poropiti ! Solo. "£ For his star avc sco is rising, ■ Tohu. ) Aud alone he'll make 'em fly, Which Ave're bent on signalising Witli unusual revelry. All. Here's good luck to old Te Whiti, He's a mighty poropiti, So bring, oh bring the sweet potato, &c. Song.— Te Whiti. Oh, better far to live and die Under the rule of prophecy, And play the sly obstructive part, Than get a bullet through one's head or heart. Away to the cheating Avorld go you, Where pakehas are well-to-do ; But I'll be true to my oavu belief, And live and die a Maori chief. For I am a Maori chief. All. You are ! Hurrah for our mighty chief. Te W. And it is, it is a grand belief To be a Maori chief. All. Hurrah ! For our mighty chief. Te W. When I stand up here to have my say, I express myself in a royal way ; I use more mystery, it's true, Than a Avell-bred prophet ought to do. But many a Minister in a first-class billot, If he Avants to draAV the screw and fill it, Must manage somehoAv to do a swindle, Or else his influence Avould dwindle. Tohu. Hark ! Surely I hear voices ! Who has ventured to approach our marae ? Can it be the Constabulary ? No, it does not sound like Constabulary. Mrs Tohu. Confusion ! it is the voice of pakehas ! If they should come avc are lost. Tohu. By all that's marvellous, it is a party of reporters ! Mrs Tohu. Saved ! saved ! saved ! Tohu. Hoav intellectual, lioav surpassingly intellectual, is the plainest of them. What learning, what politeness, what refinement ! Recitative. — Te Whiti. What shall Ido ! Before these keen reporters I dare not slioav in this old blanket. No, no, I must get out my black belltopper, And then I shall appear in decent costume. Reporter's Song. Stealing out from camp this morning, Disregarding Bryce's Avarning, Sneaking past each watching sentry, We have made this private entry, Treading long and leafy mazes, And old Bryce can go to blazes ! He'll get pepper from the papers For his autocratic capers ; We shall slate those big officials Who have dared to stop the specials. Song. — Mrs Tohu. Poor wandering ones Though you have surely strayed, Take heart of grace. Here fear no duns — Be not afraid, Poor Avandering ones. We'll give you kai : See that baked hog, Don't spare the prog ; And, if you're dry, Here, take a tot — kapai. Take another — don't bo shy ; Wire in — spuds, pork, and tea — We ahvays let in deadheads free. SONG.- — Mr Bryce (who is seen reconnoiteriny at a yap in the fence.) I am the very model of a modern Native ) Minister ; ' I can be either affable, or chaffable, or , sinister ; I know official dodges, and I can be oratorical, ; And write long memoranda in order \ categorical. i I'm very well acquainted with matters diplomatical, I undertake decisions on some subjects problematical, About all Maori theories I'm teeming with a lot o' news, Lots o' news, lots o' news, But if I prove a failure, Avhat a devil of a pot I'll lose. But if I prove a failure, Avhat a devil of a pot I'll lose. All. But if he proves a failure, &c. Rryce. I'm very good at humbug, and circumlocution red-tape Avays ; I know the old official moves of staving off, and long delays ; In short, I can be affable, or chaffable, or sinister, I am the very model of a modern Native Minister. All. In short, he can be affable, or chaffable, or sinister, He is the very model of a modern Native Minister. Bryce. I know NeAV Zealand history, Stafford, Yogel, Fox and Atkinson ; I answer awkward questions, whatever little tack it's on ; I hunted from odd corners all the crimes of Johnny Sheehan, And I gloated o'er the details with a sanctimonious psean.

I can tell undoubted crammers in debate or in committee, And I'll make a stroke quite lucky if I capture this Te Whiti. Then I shall make a fortune, though I hardly had a cent afore, Cent afore, cent afore, Though the papers publish nonsense, and say I'm surely bent on Avar. All. Though the papers, &c. Bryce. I turned up Sheehan's washing bills and all his peccadilioes, ] I told 'em every detail of every little | bill he oavos ; • In short, I can bo affable, or chaffable, | or sinister, I am the A T ery pattern of a Hallite Native Minister. All. In short, &c. Bryce. In short, Avhen I knoAv what is meant by mamelon and ravelin, When I can tell at sight a Snider rifle from a javelin, When such affairs as marches and surprises I'm more Avary at, And Avhen I knoAv precisely lioav to manage commissariat, When I have heard Avhat progress has been made in modern flummery, - I shall be a match for Ballance, Macaudrew, and Montgomery. In short, Avhen I've a smattering of politics both old and neAV, You'll say a better Native Minister has never draAvn his sci'CAv, You'll say a better Native Minister has never drawn his screAv. All. We shall say, &c. Rryce. For my political knOAvlcdgc, though I like to draAv official pay, Has only been gathered in a rough-and-ready sort of Avay. But still I can be affable, or chaffable, or sinister, I am the very model of a modern Native Minister. All. But still, &c. j Native Chorus. I Pray observe our magnanimity, ' How avc keep our equanimity. NeA-er Avas such opportunity To pot Bryce witli impunity ; But avo give up that felicity Through Te Whiti's great simplicity, Though Avc've men of intrepidity, Would eat him Avith avidity, In spite o£ his acidity. Te W. For avc are all peaceful boys. All. We are ! Hurrah for the peaceful boys. Bryce. And it sometimes is a prudent thing To be a peaceful boy, All. It is ! Hurrah for the peaceful boys ! ACT 11. Scene. — Centre of Parihaka. NigJU. Maoris assembled in the marae.. Chorus. Oh, dry tlie glistening tear On that prophetic cheek, Though gathering hosts are near And round about they sneak. With sympathetic care We keep to thy behests, And unresisting bear, Though bayonets pierce our breasts. Solo.— Miss Te Whiti. Dear father, why leave your bed At this untimely hour, When happy daylight is dead, And darksome dangers loAver. See, the Hoi as have not come, The constables are still, I only hear tho hum Of hosts on yonder hill. Scene. — Punyarehu. The camp. Recit. — Bryce. Roberts, let your forces lion-hearted Be summoned to receive a Minister's blessing, Ere they depart upon their dread adventure. Roberts. Dear sir, they come. Song. — Colonel Roberts. .When we march to meet the foe, Tarantara, tarantara, We shall make a splendid show, Tarantara, And Aye find the wisest course Tarantara, tarantara, Is to take a mighty force, Tarantara, For I've learned in many a brush, Tarantara, tarantara, That a nigger in the bush, Tarantara, Is as good as three of us, Bryce. Go, ye heroes, as of yore, Though you need not shed your gore, There are spuds and pigs galore, Go and prig the Maori kai. Go to forage and to slaughter, Every pig in overy quarter, My permission is your charter. Scene. — Parihalca. Maoris surrounded ly the trooj>s. Bryce. Hoaa' dare ye face me ! Know ye not, oh rash ones, that I have doomed you to extermination ! Te Whiti. Havo morcy on us ! Hear us ere you slaughter. Bryce. No, the time for talk is finished. But I must tell you of my ingenious paradox. CnANT. — Bryce, For some State reasons, about Avhich, however, I've no desire to be communicative, Some person in authority (I don't knoAv who, very likely the House Legislative), Has decided that, although you are living on your land, it has been confiscated, And therefore you are to be driven off, and your land appropriated. Through some singular coincidence, — I shouldn't be surprised if it were owing to the agency of Fox— You are the victims of this clumsy arrangement, and had better clear out to save hard knocks, And so, by a simple arithmetical process you'll soon discover,

Though you've lived on the land for hundreds of years, your occupancy is over. Song.—Tc Whiti. How quaint the ways of Paradox, At common sense sho gaily mocks ; For, counting in the Maori style, You see this 'ere is Maori sile' Bryce. I'm afraid you don't appreciate the delicacy of your position. Song. — Colonel Roberts. Rob. When the enterprising bobby's not a-raid-in S> All. Not a-raiding, Rob. When the foorce it is not occupied with loot, All. Pied with loot, Rob. The papers they are sure to be upraiding, -A-M- Yes, upraiding, Rob. Aud the ten per cent, is taken off our hoot, ■Ail- Off our hoot. Rob. When in toAvn, Aye court the cookies and the nurses, -All. And the nurses, Rob. When they air the' little babies in the sun, All. In the sun, Rob. But, tako one consideration with another, All. With another, Rob. The Constabulary's lot is not a happy one. Chorus. When a raid like this has got to be begun) Be begun, Tho Constabulary lot is not a happy one, Happy one. (Te Whiti, Tohu, and HiroTci are seised.) Chorus of Police and Volunteers. We triumph now, for Avell we troAv Te Whiti's career's cut short, The prophet's band -ivill take their stand At the next sessions of the Supreme Court. Bryee. Forward, my men, and seize those reporters. Rob. We charge you yield in Queen Victoria's name ! Report. We yield at onco with humbled mien, Because, with all our faults, Aye love the Queen. Bryce. Away Avith them, and place them at the rear. Finale. Poor wandering ones, &c. [Curtain.]