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GREEN EYE OF THE LITTLE YELLOW GOD, THE (J Milton Hayes 1911) as recorded (spoken) by Bransby Williams 1911 There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu, There's a little marble cross below the town. There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew, And that yellow god forever gazes down! He was known as Mad Carew By the subs at Khatmandu, He was hotter than they felt inclined to tell. But for all his foolish pranks, He was worshipped in the ranks, And the Colonel's daughter smiled on him as well! He'd loved her from the start, That she knew it in her heart, The fact that she loved him was plain to all. She was nearly twenty one, And arrangements had begun To celebrate her birthday with a ball. She wrote to ask what present she would like from Mad Carew, They met next day as he dismissed a squad, And jestingly she told him nothing else on earth would do But the green eye of the little yellow god! On the night before the dance, Mad Carew seemed in a trance, And they chaffed him as they puffed at their cigars, But for once he failed to smile And he sat alone awhile, Then went out into the night beneath the stars. He returned before the dawn With his shirt and tunic torn, And a gash across his temple dripping red. He was patched up right away And he slept all through the day, And the Colonel's daughter watched beside his bed. He woke at last and asked if she would send his tunic through, She brought it and he thanked her with a nod. Then feeling in the pocket said, "That's from Mad Carew!", And he handed the green eye of the god! She upbraided poor Carew In the way that women do, Though both her eyes were strangely hot and wet. But she wouldn't take the stone, And Carew was left alone With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get! When the ball was it its height On that still and tropic night, She thought of him and hastened to his room. As she crossed the barrack square, She could hear the dreamy air Of a waltz tune softly stealing through the gloom. His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through, The place was wet and slippy where she trod, For ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew, 'Twas the vengeance of that little yellow god! So there's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu, There's a little marble cross below the town. There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew, And that yellow god forever gazes down! (Transcribed by Peter Akers - November 2018)

    





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