TE MAORI GO TO WAR.

Taihape Daily Times, Issue 220, 21 February 1917, Page 2

TE MAORI GO TO WAR.

Tena koe, Missa Edita, I hawwa yarn to you; We talk apout te pakeha an’ how te way he do. It worry neary rook rike rain; no kood we work to-tay, No goot te plow, I terr you what we hawwa horotay. Te pakeha he ketta fight an‘ ora terra ko, I peen town to te parimet and hear te korero. Pill Massey terrun ora newsh —I hear ’im what he say— I tink ten mirrion pakeha tey terrim “peep-poo-ray.” Te pakeha he not too pad to make to prurry fight, Py cripe, te Maori, he te one —he do him werry right. Te tancc te'haka for te war; he sont rike any ting, (Te white man haka prurry rot —he sing “Gor Save te King.”) ' My prutter Paru he te one, no fry on him, you know. An’ s’pose he terr his tripe to come t’oy get te gnu an’ go. ‘Nif te Kaisir see te dance, te haka I peen say, Werr, I pet te prurry Tcherman crear rike Herr an’ run away. Now, s’pose te white man’s ca’ch te proke, an’ neivwa kill ’im ted, An’ nif he got no sark an’ spud, an" nif he got uo ped. He giw-’im prenty prankit. an’ he giw-’im prenty kai. An’ he worry kine fat ferra an’ he nowwa ret ’im tie. My poy, he read um era newsh —yon know he peen a school — An t’at te way I terra you, te white man prurry fool. Te Maori make te proper fire, an’ t’on he make te stoo, He kill his ferra ted an’ te’n he eat te poggar, too. John R. Cole, in the “Bulletin.”