Roto.
(Excited.) That’s it, Mister. Give it us.
Re. Off.
(Continues more eloquently.) Now we are New Zealanders, and we live in this free and happy land, you may ask, what has all this trouble in Europe to do with us?
Robert, Gordon and the Shepherds.
Hear! Hear! We do, we do ask!
Re. Off.
(Very effectively.) But I answer you lads, what language do we speak? English! What race are we? Britons! Why, lads, the British over there aren’t as British as we are; They are English and Scotch and Irish and Welsh—but what are we? All these British strains mixed! Most of us have some Scotch blood and some English blood and some Irish blood mixed in our veins, many of us have been to other parts of Britain and got a touch of Canada, or Australia, or South Africa into us. I say lads we are more British than the folks in the Old Dart. We are a fine blend of all the flavours of different Britons, we are the very essence of Britain! We are epitomes of Empire.
All.
(Enthusiastic.) Hurray, that’s right. Hear, hear! Go it!