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           The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God

(this was my father's favourite monologue - I heard him recite many times so many I almost knew it -well the first two and last verses then I found the various sites with it)


There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Katmandu,
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 Katmandu,
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,
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.

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 Katmandu,
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.

Original Source for this page - Many Thanks to author  - http://www.public.iastate.edu/~jdbrus/Hayes.html  Alas no longer seems to be there 

I just moved this data to bottom of page 

J[ohn] Milton Hayes
(1884 - 1940)


A North Country actor, [Hayes] wrote this charming poem in 1911, in five hours, as material for his act. The poem was particularly riveting to the audiences of the day, and its popularity spread. It is unfortunate that little is known about Hayes. He was an associate of Alec Waugh (Evelyn's brother) who met Hayes in the First World War. Both men were imprisoned in a German POW camp, where the attached picture was taken. If anyone can supply verifiable, documented biographical information about Hayes, I would be glad to include it here.

The text of this poem is the text used in Parlour Poetry (Ed. Michael R. Turner, Michael Joseph Ltd, 1967), which I believe is slightly more reliable than the text used in Best Loved Poems of the American People (Garden City, 1938), as Parlour Poetry uses the word "hotter" in the second verse, the way I have always heard it quoted. BLPAP uses "better". The unorthodox spelling of "Katmandu" is in both sources.     (Text and image from the Tulk Family Website)