When the Tin Pot Floats.

Observer, Volume XVI, Issue 950, 13 March 1897, Page 14

When the Tin Pot Floats.

(BY EDWIN EDWABDS)

I've pegged a little holding— a mile or two of ground— There's lots o' reefsawaitin' there (awaitin' to be found . . 'Tis peg and peg with Boz rock, of course clean on the line Of that most accommodating little Waihi mine. And if yon only sink enough, and drive enough, and spend A ton or bo of bullion till the capital's up-end, Why there's money in" the trouble (for the fellow who promotes), And a pretty little pasß-book when the Tin Pot floatß 1

And when the expects clamber tip, all breathless they arrive, (We've gos a' little bit of dirt all planted in the drive); And while they g»s of tufa, andesite and other gag, We stand aghast (and drop a sniff of bullion in the bag) ; Or, perhaps, yer spit a little bit of • colour ' in the dish (Yon gauge yer bait according to the value of yer fish) ; And if they jam their German down yer open mouths and throats, Well, they'll talk another language when the Tin Pot floats.

In the meantime, up at Gallagher's, or any other pubs, Or sometimes when the toffs invite yer to the .swagger clubs, You play the honest miner and the ' got a fiver?' joke (Oh, the little Auckland draper is a first-class bloke), With biceps thirteen incheS, well, you can't graft, anyhow. Once you did a bit of mining, but you make it do you now; So you travel on the grocer, and on Queenstreet goat?, ' Wot, pay yer ? yes. I'll pay yer when the Tin Pot floats !'

You spot your man — you get your plan — a whisky for the muff, And carelessly you pocket his little bit of stuff. It took him half a year to 3ave that little bit of tiu, But what's the good of talking, that's just where you come in. I believe that viv victim, some chap has said before. There's diamond pine, and city sins, and Pommery galore. He's stariug at the overdraft; you're counting out his notes. Bat, iiord, there'll be a pay-day when the Tin Pot floats.

Near a solemn-looking mountain stands a mansion, grim and btrong — 'Tis known to haVxtuc* as Reaton'sßestaurant'Tis the goal of mining experts, ' 'Tis the Queen-street miners' fate, To read that sad inscription—' your hair cut while you wait.' So, think awhile, j c broker-man ; you peegerout, beware ; Your conscience may not be extant, but hang on to your hair I 'Tis well to keep the arrows from jour trousers and jour coat, Which are certain to adorn you should the Tin Pot float.