THe T^^OPICAL AGRICULTURIST. 
[October i, 1890. 
s6o 
From all I oan gather, the facts are these ; 
He has been in the habit of selling teas, 
Indian or others, but mostly Chinese, 
For several years in the city, 
And had feathered his nest, so people say, 
It 's a business, you know, where skill comes into play, 
And is helped in rather an imbecile way 
By the Government, more ’s the pity. 
For it seems they omitted to note the fact. 
When they lately tinkered the Trade Marks Act, 
That earlier registered marks would attract 
The ignorant public buyer ; 
And having forgotten to cancel these 
They have lelt to the dealer in ‘ blends ’ of ‘ pure teas ’ 
A chance that his natural talents will seize. 
Although not a regular liar. 
So a man with a label of ancient date 
Has no occasion for washing his slate, 
But can still remain in his former state 
Of sin and still gather his profit ; 
And may use, if he wishes, a label of lies 
With the words CBYIiON TEA printed more than life 
size, 
And with all the seductions of type to disguise 
Each word that he ought to take off it ! 
Let me give you a ease, my friend : suppose 
I 'm a dealer in teas : I prefer, of course, those 
That give the best profit ; it ’s this that shows 
The gifts of a genuine grocer ; 
So I start as a specially honest man, 
’T'is the principal part of my plausible plan. 
And I hire the best assistance I oan 
From a deeply-designing engrosser. 
In a specious circular I decry 
All other grocers to show that I 
Have the general welfare under my eye. 
Of Purity, Sole Apostle ! 
And though, like the lark at heaven ’9 gate 
/ never can sing, if you T1 only wait, 
I am sure I can nobly imitate 
The note of a Seven Dials’ throstle ! 
And I rake my head for fanciful names 
For the teas I create, for a blender proclaims 
Himself above Nature, and modesty shames 
When praising his own production ; 
And he wildly raves of the strength intense 
Of his “ Broken Leaf ” and “ Spring Pickings ” : all 
sense 
He will outrage in lust for the purchaser’s pence : 
Plain truth would mean simply Destruction ! 
My Pi,egistered Trade Mark is to me 
As dear as my own morality, 
And I ’m bound to sell under it all the tea 
That I buy iu the course of trade, so 
I call myself an ‘ importer,’ the force 
Of circumstances compels me : of course 
The buyer can’t trace the tea to its source, 
And what doesn’t seem true is made so 
By the Registered Trade Mark. True art lends 
Herself to a fraud sometimes, but the ends 
Of Justice are met in the case of the ‘ blends’ 
Made by myself as ‘ importer,’ 
For, aided by Art, I soon design 
A label and wrapper that you would define 
As ‘ misleading’ perhaps, but you see they are mine ; 
To me they are bricks and mortar. 
With these a reputation I build 
As sound as the tea in the packets I ’ve filled. 
And with trust in myself and in all of our guild, 
I start as an honest retailer : 
And I issue teas to the public as ‘ PURE,’ 
I iiope they are so, but I cannot be sure. 
For I trust to a buyer the stuff to procure 
And he may be another black mailer ! 
My label, of course, I decorate 
With a lovely sketch of a tea estate. 
For a picture gives to the label weight, 
And Art on the label runs riot ! 
And into the picture we introduce 
A harbour, roads, carts and such items of use 
In procuring the te, a we are thought to, produce. 
And a name, to kee]i everyone quiet ! 
And, althougli we may stupidly show our Tea 
As covered with llowers, wliiob it ought not to be, 
Or even in casics send it down to the sea, 
The public have no one to guide them : 
And it any wlio fancy tbcinsidves to be skilled 
,y .onld enrjnire of their groner, who ’9 one of our guild 
And of course with a fine fellow-fe(ding is filled, 
For assislance, woe hetide them ! 
The grocer eaii only point out tlie mi, stake 
'I'hat Die paltering purchaser ’s prone to make 
In supposing ho would, for luere ’s salve. 
Indulge ill dishuiie.st dealing, 
And will warmly add that he can’t understand 
How anyone oan. with a Registered Brand, 
Suspect any dealer of tricks underhand ; 
Why.it ’9 little short of stealing 1 
I have wandered away from the point, I fear ; 
I was going to explain what has taken place here, 
But I hope my digression has made things clear 
As regards our commercial morality. 
And I hope you won’t think we are all of the stamp 
Of this rascal retailer, this scandalous scamp 
Whose reputation no tailor can vamp 
With his vicious and vengeful venality. 
Ho had lived, it appears, by the tricks of the trade 
And on Ignorant people for years he had preyed 
With his gaudy Trade Marks and his labels displayed 
Selling trash to the purchaser willing. 
Till at last it was found that the hopes he had nursed 
Were a little too bright, and the bubble then burst 
And he by bis customers roundly was cursed, — 
You can get a good lot for a shilling 1 
Now, it seems that some people who somehow appear 
To look on Ceylon as their influence-sphere, 
Have lately combined as associates here 
In a filabustering faction. 
And their time and resources they seem to devote 
To the utter destruction of all who may doat 
On the value a Trade Mark is thought to denote, 
And they threaten a legal action 
To all who refuse to accept their terms : 
Do they think that the grocers are grovelling worms ? 
That the soul of the tradesman squeamishly quirms ? 
Or, dubious, fears detection ? 
//e has a name to lose, not they 
The mushroom growth of a darkened day, 
What can they possibly have to say. 
Against Government Protection ! 
These parties, it seems, had accused the old gent 
Of using a label with wrongful intent, 
A label on which Ibelieve he had spent 
A large sum of money. He pleaded 
His label was only intended to please 
The eyes of such persons as cared for his teas : 
The words and the picture meant nothing : than these 
What further plain statements were needed ? 
But the Magistrate took a wrong view of the ease. 
So the grocer opines, and it seems a disgrace 
For a grocer, who held such a prominent plac«. 
To be fined for fraudulent dealing ; 
But it seems he admitted in toto the fraud 
Though disclaiming its motive 1 and gravely implored 
That the import of words he might use be ignored. 
But the finer bad no fine feeling, 
And the double-dealer was stabbed to the hilt 
By the Magistrate’s order : his blood was not spilt 
Though the Court had endeavoured to strip him of 
g(u)ilt. 
But it seems he can never recover. 
He cries in the streets, and to drown his distress 
He plays on the Middleman’s Organ ; the Press 
Is deaf to his cries and the doctors confess 
That a cure they can hardly discover. 
The disease is obscure and the case is unique, 
And they know not as yet by what means they can seek 
To check the sad symptoms; they hope that a week 
Of low diet may be beneficial. 
The strangest sign, perhaps, in the case 
Is this, that he feels no more the disgrace 
That years, one would fancy, could hardly efface 
After such a sentence judicial. 
But he stares at thelpeople with jaundiced eyes 
And asks if they would n’t express surprise 
If he were beguiled by his enemies’ lies 
To purchase the teas they offer ? 
Though these very teas which he now derides 
Are the teas upon which himself he prides 
He has built up his pile with rapid strides, 
This jerry-building scoffer 1 
The medical men are inclined to think 
His mania due to excessive drink 
In the form of ‘ lie’ tea, but a grocer should shrink 
From drinking his own preparation ; 
It is certainly .strange that a subtle sense 
Of justieesurvives a long course of pretence 
And leads a man charged with a grievous offence 
To utter his own damnation. 
{Note hy Mr. Donne Browne.) 
Can nobody save' this wandering child 
And lead him forth from Honesty’s wild 
Lest to further di.sclo.sure he be beguiled. 
This wretched, elderly stripling'? 
As the Balaclava meu applied 
To the Poet for help ere the last o' them died 
Li't liim go, if ho only can pocket his pride 
To Mr. Riuiyai'd Kipling ! 
