Song of the Golden Fleece.

Air: "The Little Tin Gee-Gee."

"They say there's but five upon this isle; we are three of them; if the other two be brained like us, the State totters."—Shakspeare.

Bill: Behold the pair that fixed the Peace—
And accomplished your heart's desire!

Joe: We made the American babbler cease—
And put up your wool price higher.

Both: And that should please our squatter friends
And make their enjoyment full!

Bill: Than the good of all we had no other ends—

Joe: But we raised the price of wool!

Bill: The times are right rosy, the coming days hold
Prosperous days for all.

Sir Jas.: But hold your blether, you pirates bold,
That answered the sick world's call—
And put up your wool price higher!
And learn that while you have everywhere whirled
Your bill has run up the slate!

Bill and Joe: But my dear Sir James, we've saved the world!

Sir Jas.: And meantime you've killed the State!

Bill and Joe: O. I say, we expected bouquets to be hurled!
It seems that isn't our fate.

Sir Jas.: The Bolsheviks triumph at every poll—
And Holland and Semple are in!
With women in Parliament, why, the whole
Derned show will be falling in!
To read "Quick March" leaves a nasty feel—
And Joe says the teachers are swine.

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Bill and Joe: It seems now we've settled the wholesale deal, We're back in the retail line!

Bill: This is awfully rotten!

Joe: Disgusting, Bill!

Both: We have done our little bit.

Bill: As a matter of fact, I'm already quite ill!

Joe: For myself, I'm not feeling just fit.

Bill: Yet if they rob us of our beer—

Joe: Deny we make New Zealand pay—

Both: O come what may, why should we fear?—We are pals to our dying day!