Beneath the trees along the highway

From the morn and through the whole day,

Squats the hard and bearded seller,

Tall and slim Hausa trader.

With his robes about his shoulder

Does he try to get a buyer,

Often calling passers-by,

Calling them to come and buy.

‘Master, master,

Look at this

It's a lovely Kano cloth,203

It has travelled very far,

Over thousand, sandy miles;

From the plains and dust of Kano,

Over hills and through Dahomey.

Through the great Ashanti forests

To this green and pleasant coastland.

And the price is very cheap,

Eighty shillings won't be bad

For a many-patterned cloth

From the northern plains of Kano!’

‘Stay, O stay,

O master, stay!

What about this curious bag?

It is made from crocodile,

And it's very, very rare!

I am sure your wife will like it,

She'll be glad to carry one;

And since I wish to be your friend

I will take a hundred shillings!’

And at this the pretty woman

Bent and fingered long the bag,

Feeling long the creature's scales

That were clearly on the bag.

A cry of triumph issued out

From the tall and bearded trader;

And taking now his cotton fez

He stroked his shaven head with feeling.

‘Ah she likes it!’ beams the trader,

‘It will fit her very well;

All the nice and sporting ladies

Wish to carry crocodiles!’

And as he spoke he hung it up,

Hung it on her flattered arm.

Embarrassed by the cunning man,

The husband thought and thought again;

And as he looked down at his wife

He could see her longing eyes.

Fingering something in his pocket,

Now uncertain what to do;

But after weighing, reckoning, thinking,

Thinking hard with pouted lips,

Spoke the man, he spoke with courage,

‘I will give you sixty shillings!’

‘Master, master,

I will lose;

Even ninety will be bad;

But since I wish to be your friend

I will take your ninety shillings!’

‘Bearded man, I have no ninety,

Sixty-five or not at all;

I have not your time to argue,

I have not your time to bargain.’