Andrew Barton Paterson (Эндрю Бартон Патерсон)
Tar and Feathers
Oh! the circus swooped down On the Narrabri town, For the Narrabri populace moneyed are; And the showman he smiled At the folk he beguiled To come all the distance from Gunnedah. But a juvenile smart, Who objected to ”part”, Went in on the nod, and to do it he Crawled in through a crack In the tent at the back, For the boy had no slight ingenuity. And says he with a grin, ”That’s the way to get in; But I reckon I’d better be quiet or They’ll spiflicate me,” And he chuckled, for he Had the loan of the circus proprietor. But the showman astute On that wily galoot Soon dropped -- you’ll be thinking he leathered him -- Not he; with a grim Sort of humourous whim, He took him and tarred him and feathered him. Says he, ”You can go Round the world with a show, And knock every Injun and Arab wry; With your name and your trade On the posters displayed, The feathered what-is-it from Narrabri. Next day for his freak By a Narrabri Beak, He was jawed with a deal of verbosity; For his only appeal Was ”professional zeal” -- He wanted another monstrosity. Said his Worship, ”Begob! You are fined forty bob, And six shillin’s costs to the clurk!” he says. And the Narrabri joy, Half bird and half boy. Has a ”down” on himself and on circuses.
Andrew Barton Paterson’s other poems:
946
