[David Anthony]

The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God


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 the 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 had loved her all along, with a passion of the strong,
And that she returned his love was plain to all.
She was nearly twenty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.

He 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 then that nothing else 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 through all the day,
And the Colonel's daughter watched beside his bed.

He woke at last and asked if they could send his tunic through;
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod;
He bade her search the pocket saying "That's from Mad Carew,"
And she found the little 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 Mad Carew was left alone
With the jewel that he'd chanced his life to get.

When the ball was at its height, on that still and tropic night,
She thought of him and hurried to his room;
As she crossed the barrack square she could hear the dreamy air
Of a waltz tune softly stealing thro' the gloom.

His door was open wide, with silver moonlight shining through;
The place was wet and slipp'ry where she trod;
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew,
'Twas the "Vengeance of the Little Yellow God."

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 the Yellow God forever gazes down.

J Milton Hayes


(No, it's not our Jim Hayes.)
I'd be interested to know what people think of this. It's unlike most contemporary poetry, of course. I like its vigour. It was popular at a time when everybody had a recitation-piece in case they were called upon after dinner, and it fitted the bill perfectly.
The author was a professional actor.

[Janet Kenny]

David,
When I was a very small girl my local radio station in New Zealand played a recording of this one at least once a week. I have always loved it. Not quite as much as I loved "There's a lighthouse shines across the bay" but almost.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=By2GcMM48WA

(It was an OLD record then you nasty people ;-)

Back to "The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God". It is very like some early Australian narrative poems. "Mad Carew" or Indiana Jones. The boy's own adventure in the far flung colonies. Wonderful dramatic piece and a great example of the genre.

Here's "The Man From Snowy River" Not a dramatic poem in the same sense but the style is similar:
http://uqconnect.net/~zzdmcana/Man_F...iver_poem.html

[David Anthony]

Very interesting recording, Janet.
It set me off to searching YouTube, where I found this gem:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hv21jJ2pe5M

[Janet Kenny]

David, the reader who grabbed my imagination was Bransby Williams. I've tried to copy the enormously long URL of the Pathé recording:

http://video.google.com.au/videosear...51863698490104


David PS: My husband said it would have been a later recording that he made in the thirties because this 1910 recording wouldn't have been able to be broadcast on radio.

[Kevin Greene]

Kind of a jumble of a rhyme scheme. Obviously it performs well.

[Gail White]

"Mad Carew" was in a book my parents gave me decades ago; I think it was "Best Loved Poems of the American People." It had a lot of old ballads on the order of "Lasca, Down by the Rio Grande" & I loved it.

Those who remember "Upstairs/Downstairs" fondly may recall that the servants all go for a holiday in August 1914, and England declares war just as Hudson the butler gets really going on a recital of "Mad Carew."

Full disclosure: My only recital piece for parties is "The Ramsbottoms at the Seashore", in which little Albert is eaten by Wallace the Lion.

[Janet Kenny]

There was a famous Australian vaudeville comedian, Mo, who used to recite "The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God".

...“he endeavoured to recite ‘The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God,’ only to be constantly interrupted by hecklers dressed as ex-Indian Army officers planted in the audience. In frustration, Mo would explode with ‘Oh this is lovely! This is beautiful! A gentleman and a scholar can’t get up to resuscitate an immoral piece of poultry without being got at!’”

[Janet Kenny]

Originally Posted by Gail White

Full disclosure: My only recital piece for parties is "The Ramsbottoms at the Seashore", in which little Albert is eaten by Wallace the Lion.

Mine too Gail ;-)

[Holly Martins]

Janet, I remember seeing a British version of the sketch as a child. The humour derives from the two old buffers having served in Khatmandu with Mad Carew, and loudly contradicting all the information in the poem. Well, it made me laugh.

[John Whitworth]

I too heard the sketch, I think on Vic Oliver's Variety Bandbox. According to Google the comedian was called Rene, known as Mo. As I remember I laughed into the bedclothes. I was listening illicitly in my bedroom to my little radio. I must have been about nine or ten.

Incidentally, if you google Mad Carew and The Mudcafe you can find some (rather rude) parodies.