---

C J Dennis - Hopeful Hawkins
Work rating: Medium

Hawkins wasn`t in the swim at all in Dingo Flat,
   And to bait him was our chiefest form of bliss;
But, in justice, be it said that he had a business head.
   (That`s why I`m standing here and telling this.)

He was trav`ling for a company, insuring people`s lives;
   And stayed about a month in Dingo Flat;
But his biz was rather dull, and we took him for a gull,
   An amazing simple-minded one at that.

He was mad, he was, on mining and around about the town
   Prospected every reef.  But worse than that -
He`d talk for half a day, in a most annoying way,
   On "The mineral resources of the Flat."

He swore that somewhere nigh us was a rich gold-bearing red,
   If a fellow only had the luck to strike it;
And he only used to laugh when the boys began to chaff,
   And seemed, in fact, to rather sort of like it.

Well, we stood him for a month until he well nigh drove us mad.
   And as jeering couldn`t penetrate his hide
We fixed a little scheme for to dissipate his dream,
   And sicken him of mining till he died.

We got a likely-looking bit of quartz and faked it up
   With dabs of golden paint; then called him in.
Oh, he went clean off his head; it was gold for sure, he said.
   And if we`d sell our claim he`d raise the tin.

But we weren`t taking any-not at least till later on;
   For we reckoned that we`d string him on a while.
When he wanted information of the reef`s exact location
   We would meet him with a knowing sort of smile.

At last we dropped a hint that set him pegging out a claim,
   And we saw that we were coming in for sport;
For the next account we heard was when Hawkins passed the word
   He was fetching up an expert to report.

When we heard that expert`s verdict we were blown clean out of time,
   And absorbed the fact that we had fallen in.
The gold, he said, would run `bout four ounces to the ton;
   With traces, too, of copper, zinc and tin.

Old Hawkins he was jubilant, and up at Peter`s store
   A lovely lot of specimens was showing;
And we gazed at them and groaned, for the truth had to be owned:
   We had put him on a pile without our knowing.

We couldn`t let the thing slip through our fingers, so to speak.
   There were thousands in the mine without a doubt.
So me and Baker Brothers, and half a dozen others,
   We formed a syndicate to buy him out.

Well, he said he`d not the money to develop such a claim,
   And he`d sell it if we made a decent bid.
So we made pretence at dealing, and it almost seemed like stealing
   When he parted, for five hundred lovely quid.

We haven`t seen the vendor in the Flat for nigh a week,
   And we`re wishing, on the whole, he`d never come.
The confounded mine`s a duffer; for that simple-minded buffer
   He had salted it.  The "expert" was a chum.

Hawkins wasn`t reckoned much at all in Dingo Flat.
   We`d a notion that his headpiece was amiss.
But we wish to have it stated, he was rather underrated.
   (That`s why I`m standing here and telling this.)
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.