Victoria's Agent-General, Mr McWhae, says that if ever we are to win our way in the fruit markets of the world we must stop the exportation of inferior fruit.
I'm only a speckled apricot,
But they passed me at the docks.
And they said, "He'll do -- he ain't too new,
But he'll help to fill the box."
So they sent me out on the bounding sea,
Food for the friend, and alien --
And they said, "Look here, you make it clear
You're dinkum, and Australian."
Well, I did my best to pass the test.
Me! that was just a runt.
And a Turkey fig says to me, "Dig,
You goin' to the front?"
And I answered, "Yes; I must confess
My figure ain't allurin',
But I'm an Aussie apricot,
And, lad, we're all endurin' --
And when I came to a British dame
In a poor fruit pedlar's basket.
She said: "What! That!" And he raised his hat,
And he said, "How can you ask it?
It comes from far Australia, mum,
Where fruits is pretty rotten."
So I went in to a rubbish tin,
And, henceforth, was forgotten.
But I sends a wave from me lonely grave,
And I asks you is it fair
That blokes like me should have to be
Advertisements out there?
No! Send the best! For that's the test:
I've done what I could do.
But can't you send some better friend
As representing YOU?"
First published in The Herald, 8 June 1922
Author reference sites: C.J. Dennis, Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography, Australian Poetry Library
See also.
