[Editor: One of a series of “Songs for the Miners” published in The Empire, 1851.]
Songs for the Miners.
No. 3.
The Baker’s Boy* to the mines is gone,
In the diggers’ ranks you’ll find him ;
His master’s shovel he has girded on,
And the flour-sieve slung behind him,
“Land of Gold !” said the Baker’s Boy,
“Though Sydney scribes decry thee,
One dig, at least, I will enjoy,
One hopeful heart will try thee.”
The Baker-failed ! — and his master’s sieve,
He was seen no longer should’ring ;
The heart that scorned, began to grieve
For the crusts he late saw mould’ring.
He said, “No charms has gold for me,
Since digging is such slavery !
The rogues I meet are so bold and free,
They excel all bakehouse knavery.”
* The following letter appeared in the Empire of Wednesday last :—
CAUTION TO THE TRADE.
To the Editor of the Empire.
Sir — One of my men has bolted to the diggings, and, being short of tools, has taken with him the Bakehouse shovel and flour sieve.
I am, Sir,
A Baker.
Source:
The Empire (Sydney, NSW), Monday 26 May 1851, page 475 (page 3 of that issue)
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