THE LOAFER.

Auckland Star, Volume II, Issue 474, 18 July 1871, Page 3

THE LOAFER.

Out in the cold and pelting rain, With bleary eyes and beery nose, In well-worn hat and seedy clothes ; His greasy pockets containing hands Not fond-of work—at the corner stands " The Loafer." Out in the cold and the drizzling rain, Peering along the muddy street, In hopes some monied friend to meet; Envying those who go in and out Of the aoisy bar, "Come! wont you shout ?" Whines "Loafer." Out in the cold and the pouring rain ! His wretched heart begins to sink. A. welcome sound! "Come! have a drink," From a digger, whose pockets are lined With the sweat of his brow. " I don't mind" Says " Loafer." Out of the rain in the cosy bar! The cherished drink he raises high, And drains it quick, with inward sigh ; Clutching the glass with nervous fingers, Still at the counter, thirsty, lingers The " Loafer." Out of the rain in the cosy bar! He loiters long and smacks his lips Grown dry and cracked with countless " nips ;" Till, seeing that they will " shout" no more, Reluctant passes the open door, " The Loafer." Out in the cold and the pelting rain ! The stormy blast or burning heat! He crawls along on tottering fe^t. How he lives, none know; how dies, none heed ; Nona seek his grave—he's a worthless weed— " A Loafer I" Lancelot Booth. Prince of Wales Theatre.