BLACK AND WHITE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6487, 16 May 1899, Page 2

BLACK AND WHITE.

I tike it the Wes' Coast nigger ain't much of a 'eavingly dream, An' life runs low wheer the air yer breathe is a, blend o' stink an' steam, An' it's no grite jump from man ter beast in the pot wheer the fevers stew, In the plice wheer the earth 'as wore so thin that 'ell comes leakin' through. An' the white man tikes 'is burden up, an' ter the black says 'c: "Any cash as yer 'appens ter f ave yer'll swop fur gin ter me. it's a narce red-'ot "West Africa brand, and the tride in it does me well; I picks the innuds art o' the nut, and I throws awye the shell." The white man tikes 'is gorspel up, an' clears 'is clerical throat, An' sees them niggers whores all gort souls .an' none 'as a Sunday coat; An' ter turn art finished Chrischuns is a. jorb when yer begin By ruikin' 'eathen realize the 'ginf illness- of gin. : • . ■' . • An' the white man tikes 'is trumpet up an' • . blows uncommon Inrcl; "It's my method with tho negro rice of which I'm chiefly prard!" And all the devils lawf . theerselves sick in the pot wheer the fevers stew, In the plice wheer the earth- 'as wore so thin that 'ell comes leakin' through.