Rustum beg of Kolazai—slightly
backward native state
Lusted for a C. S. I.,—so began to sanitate.
Built a Jail and Hospital—nearly built
a City drain—
Till his faithful subjects all thought their Ruler
was insane.
Strange departures made he then—yea, Departments
stranger still,
Half a dozen Englishmen helped the Rajah with a will,
Talked of noble aims and high, hinted of a future
fine
For the state of Kolazai, on a strictly Western line.
Rajah Rustum held his peace; lowered octroi dues a
half;
Organized a State Police; purified the. Civil
Staff;
Settled cess and tax afresh in a very liberal way;
Cut temptations of the flesh—also cut the
Bukhshi’s pay;
Roused his Secretariat to a fine Mahratta fury,
By a Hookum hinting at supervision of dasturi;
Turned the State of Kolazai very nearly upside-down;
When the end of May was nigh, waited his achievement
crown.
When the Birthday Honors came,
Sad to state and sad to see,
Stood against the Rajah’s name nothing more
than C. I. E.!
* * * * *
Things were lively for a week in the State of Kolazai.
Even now the people speak of that time regretfully.
How he disendowed the Jail—stopped at once
the City drain;
Turned to beauty fair and frail—got his
senses back again;
Doubled taxes, cesses, all; cleared away each new-built
thana;
Turned the two-lakh Hospital into a superb Zenana;
Heaped upon the Bukhshi Sahib wealth and honors manifold;
Clad himself in Eastern garb—squeezed his
people as of old.
Happy, happy Kolazai! Never more will Rustum
Beg
Play to catch the Viceroy’s eye. He prefers
the “simpkin” peg.
“Now there were two men in one city;
the one rich and the other poor.”
Jack Barrett went to Quetta
Because they told him to.
He left his wife at Simla
On three-fourths his monthly screw:
Jack Barrett died at Quetta
Ere the next month’s pay he
drew.
Jack Barrett went to Quetta.
He didn’t understand
The reason of his transfer
From the pleasant mountain-land:
The season was September,
And it killed him out of hand.
Jack Barrett went to Quetta,
And there gave up the ghost,
Attempting two men’s duty
In that very healthy post;
And Mrs. Barrett mourned for him
Five lively months at most.
Jack Barrett’s bones at Quetta
Enjoy profound repose;
But I shouldn’t be astonished
If now his spirit knows
The reason of his transfer
From the Himalayan snows.
And, when the Last Great Bugle Call
Adown the Hurnal throbs,
When the last grim joke is entered
In the big black Book of Jobs,
And Quetta graveyards give again
Their victims to the air,
I shouldn’t like to be the man
Who sent Jack Barrett there.
