Chapter II: Part 2

`Shall I not strike one patriotic blow?

I'd help her had I but the means, the lever--

```"_Leave her!_"

`May we not hope? speak Echo, thou must know--

```"_No!_"

Then shall be heard--when, round us slowly creeping,

`Shall come this adverse blast to fill our sails--

Instead of mirth, while hope aside 'tis sweeping--

```"_Weeping!_"

`Instead of songs of praise in New South Wales--

```"_Wails!_"

|THE following ballad suggested itself to the Author while in the remote interior and suffering from a severe attack of indigestion, he having rashly partaken of some damper made by a remorseless and inexperienced new-chum. Those who do not know what ponderous fare this particular species of bush-luxury is when ill-made may possibly think the sub-joined incidents a little over-drawn. If a somewhat gloomy atmosphere be found pervading the narrative, it is to be attributed to the fact that all the horrors of dyspepsia shadowed the Author's soul at the time it was written, and, if further extenuation be required, it may be stated that he had previously been going through a course of gloomy and marrow-freezing literature, commencing with Edgar Poe's "Raven," and winding up with the crowning atrocity (or _alba_trossity) which saddened the declining years of Coleridge's Ancient Mariner.

THE SHEPHERD'S VENGEANCE,

Fytte the First.

|The squatter kings of New South Wales--

``The squatter kings who reign

O'er rocky hill, and scrubby ridge,

O'er swamp, and salt-bush plain--

Fenced in their runs, and coves applied

For shepherding in vain.=

The squatters said that closed should be

``To tramps each station-store;

That parties on the "cadging suit"

``Should ne'er have succour more;

And when Bill the shepherd heard the same

``He bowed his neck and swore.=

Now, though that ancient shepherd felt

``So mad he couldn't speak,

No sighs escape his breast, no tears

``From out his eyelids leak,

But he swore upon the human race

``A black revenge to wreak.=

He brooded long, and a fiendish light

``Lit up the face of Bill;

He saw the way to work on men

``A dark and grievous ill,

And place them far beyond the aid

``Of senna, salts, or pill.=

He hied him to his lonely hut

``By a deep dark, lakelet's shore;

He passed beneath its lowly roof--

``He shut and locked the door;

And he emptied out his flour bag

``Upon the hard clay floor.=

Awhile he eyed the mighty mound

``With dark, malignant zeal,

And then, a shovel having found,

``"Their fates," said he, "I'll seal";

And he made a "damper" broad and round

``As a Roman chariot-wheel.=

He soddened it with water drawn

``From out that black lagoon,

And he smiled to think that those who ate

``A piece of it would soon

Be where they'd neither see the light

``Of sun, nor stars, nor moon.=

F or when that damper came to be

``Dug from its glowing bed,

Its fell specific gravity

``Was far o'er gold or lead,

And a look of satisfaction o'er

``That shepherd's features spread.=

Fytte the Second.

|The shepherd sat by the gloomy shore

``Of the black and dark lagoon;

His face was lit, and his elf-locks hoar

``By the rays of the rising moon.=

His hand was clenched, and his visage wore

``A deadly frown and black,

And his eye-balls glare, for a stranger fair

``Is wending down the track.=

The shepherd hath bidden the stranger halt

``With courtesy and zeal,

And hath welcomed him to his low roof-tree,

``And a share of his evening meal.=

As the fare he pressed on his hungry guest,

``And thought of its deadly weight,

With savage glee he smiled for he

``Imagined his after fate.=

The stranger hath eaten his fill I ween

``Of that fell and gruesome cake,

And hath hied him away in the moon-light's sheen

``For a stroll by the deep, dark lake;=

For he thought he'd lave each stalwart limb

``In the wavelet's curling crest,

And take a dive and a pleasant swim

``'Ere he laid him down to rest.=

The coat that covered his ample chest

``On the lakelet's marge he threw;

His hat, his boots, and his flannel-vest,

``And his moleskin trowsers too.=

He hummed a tune, and he paused awhile

``To hear the night-owl sing;

His ears were cocked, and his palms were locked,

``Prepared for the final spring.=

An unsuspecting look he cast

``At the objects on the shore--

A splash! a thud! and beneath the flood

``He sank to rise no more!=

The shepherd saw from his lonely hut

``The dread catastrophé;

A notch on a withered stick he cut--

``"That's number one," said he,=

"But, if I live 'till to-morrow's sun

``"Shall gild the blue-gum tree,

"With more, I'll stake my soul, that cake

``"Of mine will disagree."=

Then down he sat by his lonely hut

``That stood by the lonely track,

To the lakelet nigh, and a horse came by

``With a horse-man on his back.=

And lean and lank was the traveller's frame

``That sat on that horse's crup:

'Twas long I ween since the wight had seen

``The ghost of a bite or sup.=

"Oh! give me food!" to the shepherd old

``With plaintive cry he cried;

A mildewed crust or a pint o'dust *

``Or a mutton cutlet fried.=

"In sooth in evil case am I,

``Fatigue and hunger too

Have played the deuce with my gastric juice,

``It's 'got no work to do.'=

"I've come o'er ridges of burning sand

``That gasp for the cooling rain,

Where the orb of day with his blinding ray

``Glares down on the salt-bush plain=

* Flour.

"O'er steaming valley, lagoon, and marsh

``Where the Sun strikes down 'till, phew!

The very eels in the water feels

``A foretaste of a stew.=

"I hungered long 'till my wasting form

``Was a hideous sight to view;

But fit on a settler's fence to sit

``To scare the cockatoo.=

"My hair grew rank, and my eyeballs sank

``'Till--wasted, withered, and thin--

The ends and points of my jarring joints

``Stuck out through my parched up skin.=

"Shrunk limb and thew, 'till at length I grew

``As thin as a gum-tree rail;

At the horrid sight of my hideous plight

``Each settler's face turned pale:=

"And as I travelled the mulga scrubs,

``And forced a passage through

I scared the soul of the native black

``A gathering his 'nardoo.'=

"On snake or lizard I'd fain have fed,

``But piteous was my plight,

And the whole of the brute creation fled

``In horror at the sight.=

"Scrub turkeys, emus, I appall;

``Their eggs I longed to poach,

But they _collared their eggs, their nests and all,

``And fled at my approach!_

"And the possums 'streaked' it up the trees,

``And frightened the young gallârs,

And all the hairs on the native-bears

``Stood stiff as iron bars!"=

The shepherd came from his low roof-tree

``And gazed at the shrunken wight;

He gave him welcome courteously,

``And jested at his plight.=

He led the traveller 'neath his roof,

``And gazed in his wan, worn face,

Where want was writ, and he bid him sit

``On an empty 'three-star' case.=

And a smile of evil import played

``On the face of ancient Bill

As some of the damper down he laid,

``And bid him take his fill.=

With mute thanksgiving in his breast

``The food the stranger tore;

Piece after piece he closely pressed

``Down on the piece before.=

And then--his heart fresh buoyed with hope--

``Essayed to mount his steed,

But the horse shut flat as an opera-hat

``With the weight of his master's feed;=

And horse and man sunk through the sod

``Some sixty feet or less!

No crust, I swear, of the Earth could bear

``The weight of the gruesome mess!=

Then the shepherd grinned with a grizzly grin

``As he notched his stick again;

The night passed by and the sun rose high

``And glared on the salt-bush plain.=

Two "gins" set forth in a bark canoe

``To traverse the gloomy lake,

And he bid them take enough for two,

``For lunch, of the deadly cake.=

Enough for two! 'twas enough I ween

``To settle the hash of four,

For the barque o'er-flowed with the crushing load--

``They sank to rise no more.=

And ever his fiendish lust for blood--

``His thirst for vengeance grows;

In sport he threw a crumb or two

``To the hawks and carrion crows;=

And as they helpless, fluttering lay,

``His eldrich laughter rings;

One crumb to bear through the lambent air

``Was past the power of wings.=

Beside his door he sat 'till noon

``When a bullock-team came by;

The echoes 'round with the whips resound,

``And the drivers' cheery cry.=

Upon the dray a piece he threw

``No bigger than your hand,

Of the cursed thing, 'twas enough to bring

``The bullocks to a stand.=

And, though they bend their sinewy necks

``'Till red with their crimson gore,

And fiercely strain yoke, pole, and chain

``With savage, muttering roar,=

The wheels sank down to the axle-tree--

``Through the hard baked clay they tore,

And a single jot from out that spot

``They shifted never more.=

Then the shepherd called to the drivers, "Ho!

``My frugal meal partake."

And, though they ate but a crumb or two

``Of the fell, unholy cake,=

Down, down they sank on the scorching track,

``Immovable and prone,

And _steel blue ants crawled up their pants

``And ate them to the bone!_=

*****

For days by his lonely hut sat Bill,

``The hut to the lakelet nigh,

And he wrought his dark revengeful will

``On each traveller that came by.=

And he eats nor drinks meat, bread, nor gruel,

``Nor washes, nor combs, nor shaves,

But he yelled, and he danced a wild pas seul

``O'er each of his victims' graves.

Three weeks passed by, but his end was nigh--

``His day was near its close,

For rumour whispered his horrid deeds,

``And in arms the settlers rose.=

They came, hinds, shepherds, and shearers too,

``And squatters of high degree;

His hands they tied, and his case they tried

``'Neath the shade of a blue gum tree.=

They sentence passed, and they gripped him fast,

``Though to tear their flesh he tried;

His teeth he ground, but his limbs they bound

``With thongs of a wild bull's hide.=

They laid him down on a "bull-dog's" nest,

``For the bull-dog ants to sting;

On his withered chest they pile the rest

``Of the damnèd cursèd thing.=

They gather round and they stir the ground

``'Till the insects swarm again,

And the echoes wake by the gloomy lake

``With his cry of rage and pain.=

O'er his writhing form the insects swarm--

``O'er arm, o'er foot, and leg;

The damper pressed on his heaving chest,

``And he couldn't move a peg.=

'Till eve he lay in the scorching heat,

``And the rays of the blinding sun,

Then the black-ants came and they soon complete

``What the bull-dogs have begun.=

'Tis o'er at last, and his spirit passed

``With a yell of fiendish hate,

And down by the shore of that black lagoon,

``Where his victims met their fate--=

Where the "bunyip" glides, and the inky tides

``Lip, lap on the gloomy shore,

And the loathsome snake of the swamp abides,

``He wanders ever more.=

And when the shadows of darkness fall

``(As hinds and stock-men tell)

The plains around with his howls resound,

``And his fierce, blood-curdling yell.=

The kangaroos come forth at night

``To feed o'er his lonely grave,

And above his bones with disma' tones

``The dingos shriek and rave.=

And when drovers camp with a wild-mob there

``They shiver with affright,

And quake with dread if they hear his tread

``In the gloom of the ebon night!=

&SOCIAL EVILS.

|I feel that any reader who has been long-suffering enough to accompany me thus far must be craving earnestly for a change of some sort, even though it but take the form of an oasis of indifferent prose in a monotonous Sahara of verse; I want it myself, and I know that the reader must yearn for it, even as the bushman who has sojourned long among the flesh-pots of remote sheep and cattle stations yearneth after the pumpkins and cabbages of the Mongolian market gardener. I am, therefore, going to write about social evils; not because I think I can say anything particularly original or striking about them, but because I must have a subject, and I know the craving of the Colonial mind after practical ones. I commence diffidently, however; not on account of the barrenness of the theme--oh! dear no--it is its very fruitfulness which baffles me; its magnitude that appals me; its comprehensiveness which gets over me; and my inability to deal with it in such limited space which "knocks me into a cocked-hat".

Even as I write, things which may be legitimately called social evils rise up before me in spectral array, like Banquo's issue, in sufficient numbers to stretch not only to the "crack of doom,"--wherever that mysterious fissure may be--but a considerable distance beyond it.

Unfortunately, too, each one, like the progeny of that philoprogenitive Scotchman, "bears a glass which shows me many more," until I am as much flabbergasted as Macbeth himself, and am compelled to take a glass of something myself to soothe my disordered nerves.

If every one were permitted to give his notion of what constitutes a social evil my difficulties would be still more augmented, and the schedule swelled considerably. I know men who would put their wives down in the list as a matter of course; and others, fathers of families, who would include children. Few married men would omit mothers-in-law; most domestics would include work and masters and mistresses; and hardly anybody would exclude tax-gatherers. Fortunately, however, these well-meaning, but mistaken reformers, will have to take back seats on the present occasion, and leave me to touch on a few, at least, of what are legitimate and undeniable social evils.

Look at them, as they drag their mis-shapen forms past us in hideous review! Adulteration of food, political dishonesty, "larrikinism," barbarism on the part of the police, lemonade and gingerbeerism in the stalls of theatres, peppermintlozengism in the dress circle, flunkeyism, itinerant preacherism in the parks--what a subject this last is, by the way, and how beautifully mixed up one's faith becomes after listening to half a dozen park preachers, of different denominations, in succession! After hearing the different views propounded by these self-constituted apostles, an intelligent islander from the Pacific would receive the impression that the white man worshipped about seventy or eighty different and distinct gods (a theological complication with which his simple mind would be unable to grapple), and he would probably retire to enjoy the society of his graven image with an increased respect for that bit of carving, and any half-formed inclinations to dissent from the religion of his forefathers quenched for ever.

I have neither space, ability, nor desire to tackle such stupendous subjects as political dishonesty or adulteration. They are so firmly grafted on our social system that nothing short of a literary torpedo could affect them in the slightest degree, but I _do_ feel equal to crushing the boy who sells oranges and lemonade in the pit--who when, in imagination, I am on the "blasted heath" enjoying the society of the weird sisters, or at a Slave Auction in the Southern States, sympathising with the sufferings of the Octoroon, ruthlessly drags me back to nineteenth century common places with his thrice damnable war- cry of "applesorangeslemonadeanabill!" a string of syllables which are in themselves death to romance, and annihilation to sentiment, irrespective of the tone and key in which they are uttered. If for one happy moment I have forgotten that Hamlet is in very truth "a king of shreds and patches," or that Ophelia is a complicated combination of rouge, paste, springs, padding, and pectoral improvers, I maintain that it is playing it particularly rough on me if I am to be recalled to a remembrance of all this by the bloodcurdling shibboleth of these soulless fruit merchants. Can lemonade compensate me for the destruction of the airy castles I have been building? Can ginger-beer steep my senses again in the elysium of romance and sentiment from which they have been thus ruthlessly awakened? Or can an ocean of orange-juice wash away or obliterate the disagreeable consciousness that I am a clerk in a Government office, or a reporter on the staff of a weekly paper, and am neither Claud Melnotte nor "a person of consequence in the 13th century?"--unhesitatingly no! And if, in addition, there be wafted towards me a whiff or two of a highly-flavoured peppermint lozenge from some antique female--on whose head be shame! and on whose false front rest eternal obliquy--my cup of sorrow is full, my enjoyment of the drama is destroyed, the Recording angel has a lively time of it for an hour or so registering execrations, and I am plunged in an abyss of melancholy from which the arm of a Hennessy (the one that holds the battle axe) or a Kinahan can alone rescue me. And here, reader, I must conclude, for your patience is in all probability exhausted, and my washerwoman has called: she is a social evil of the most malignant type.

JL.

MORAL PHILOSOPHY FOR LITTLE FOLKS.

|Little grains of rhubarb,

```Spatula'd with skill,

``Make the mighty bolus

```And the little pill.=

``Little pence and half-pence,

```Hoarded up by stealth,

``Make the mighty total

```Of the miser's wealth=

``Little trips to Randwick,

```Taking six to three,

``Make the out-at-elbows

```Seedy swells we see.=

``Little sprees on oysters,

```Bottled stout and ale,

``Lead but to the cloisters

```Of the gloomy gaol.=

``Little tracts and tractlets,

```Scattered here and there,

``Lead the sinner's footsteps

```To the house of prayer.=

``Little bits of paper,

```Headed I.O.U.,

``Ever draw the Christian

```Closer to the Jew.=

``Little chords and octaves,

```Little flats and sharps,

``Make the tunes the angels

```Play on golden harps.=

``Little bouts with broom-sticks,

```Carving forks and knives,

``Make the stirring drama

```Of our married lives.=

``Little flakes of soap-suds,

```Glenfield starch, and blue,

``Make the saint's white shirt-fronts

```And the sinner's too.=

``Little tiny insects,

```Smaller than a flea,

``Make the coral inlands

```In the southern sea.=

``Little social falsehoods,

```Such as "Not at home,"

``Lead to realms of darkness

```Where the wicked roam.=

``Likewise little cuss words

```Such as "blast," and "blow,"

``Quite as much as wuss words

```Fill the place below.=

AN AMBITIOUS DREAM.

`|I walked about in Wynyard Square

``At four one afternoon;

`I saw a stately peeler there,

``He softly hummed a tune.=

`The sun-rays lit his buttons bright;

``He stalked with stately stride;

`It was a fair and goodly sight--

``The peeler in his pride=

`And padded was his manly breast,

``Such kingly mien had he,

`And such a chest, I thought how blest

``That peeler's lot must be.=

`I noted well his martial air,

``And settled that of course

`He was the idol of the fair,

``The angel of the Force.=

`No cook or house-maid could resist,

``I felt, by any chance,

`That dark moustache with cork-screw twist,

``That marrow-searching glance.=

`And o'er each little news-boy's head

``He towered like a mast;

`His voice, to match that stately tread,

``Should shame a trumpet-blast!=

`I pondered on the matter much

``And thought I'd like to be

`Escorted to the "dock" by such

``A demi-god as he.=

`I gazed upon his form entranced--

``He never noticed me,

`For visions through his fancy danced

``Of mutton cold for tea.=

`He knew he hadn't long to stand

``'Till--Mary's labours o'er--

`She'd lead him gently by the hand

``Inside the kitchen door.=

`Ensconced in some snug vantage-coign

``At ease he'd stretch each limb,

`And feast on cutlet and sirloin,

``Purloined for love of him.=

`I leant against a scaffold-beam--

``I must have had a nap

`I think, because I had a dream--

``I dreamt I was a 'trap'!=

`I thought I had allegiance sworn

``And that there was for _me_

`The regulation tile that's worn

``By every trap you see;=

`The coat and thingumbobs as well,

``What joy could equal this?

`No Gillott's patent pens could tell

``My wild ecstatic bliss!=

`I thought they portioned out my beat--

``A foot I'm sure I grew,

`And as I walked up Hunter Street

``I felt a match for two.=

`I felt my bosom throb behind

``My coat of azure blue,

`And trembled for the peace of mind

``Of every girl I knew.=

`I saw myself in future fights

``The populace enthrall,

`While brightly blaze the city lights

``I cry "come one, come all!"=

`To grab their leader see me try

``(Though rent my lovely coat)

`The light of battle in my eye,

``My hand upon his throat!=

`The truncheon used with practised skill

``Requites him for his sin,

`In such a hand as mine it will

``Abraise his rebel skin.=

`I thought of each bush-ranging chap,

``And for a moment sighed

`That I was not a mounted trap

``Through tea-tree scrub to ride.=

`But soon the notion I dismiss,

``For I can plainly see

`That such a line of life as this

``Much harder lines would be.=

`Beneath a bushel in the bush

``My shining light to hide,

`I felt would be a gross misuse

``Of Sydney's hope and pride.=

`My look alone would petrify

``A breaker of the peace,

`And where I turned my searching eye

``Dishonesty would cease.=

`Police reports my name should state,

``Each deed of mine should be

`A deed for traps to emulate,

``And try to be like me.=

`My blushing honours should be worn

``With unobtrusive grace,

`And energy and zeal adorn

``My calm heroic face.=

`My beat was not in nasty slums

``Where vulgar rowdies meet;

`But see! the conquering hero comes--

``The pride of George's Street!=

`I thought he'd be a hardy boy

``Who'd shout in accents coarse

`"Who stole the mutton-pie, ahoy!"

``Now I was in the force.=

`Or should a cabby ere presume

``To overcharge a fare,

`My eagle glance it would consume

``That cabby then and there.=

`Now mercy light on yonder boy

``Who blows the sportive pea!

`His visage lit with fiendish joy--

``For he'll get none from me.=

`Some power save him from my care,

``Preserve him from my clutch,

`Or mutilated past repair

``He 'll have to use a crutch.=

`His form, though supple as an eel,

``His mother wouldn't know

`Again if I'd a chance to deal

``One stiffening truncheon blow!=

`No more his little idle hands

``Will scatter orange peel

`When fast enclosed in iron bands,

``Or brightly polished steel.=

`I'd marked a nice secluded seat,

``'Twas somewhere in the park,

`Where I could slumber long and sweet

``As soon as it got dark.=

`I spotted out each servant gal

``I'd let make love to me,

`The houses where I'd take a "spell,"

``And call and have my tea.=

`I took the bearings of the doors,

``And windows front and back

`Where I, unseen, by vulgar boors,

``Could go and have a "snack."=

`Fond, foolish women, at my feet

``In yearning worship fell,

`And one, she was uncommon sweet,

``Her name I'll never tell.=

`I thought I'd never lived 'till now,

``Or that I'd lived in vain;

`It was a hardish rub, I vow,

``That I should wake again.=

`Fulfilment of a nobler plan

``Ambition couldn't crave--

`I was a trap!--each common man

``Seemed born to be my slave!=

`But stay--whose hand is on me now?

``Who dares to clutch my cape?

`What light is this, and who art thou,

``Thou shadowy, ghastly shape?=

`A fearful light is shed around,

``I quake and dare not stir--

`A voice! and husky is its sound--

``It says,--"'Ullo! you, Sir!"=

`Before me was the man I'd praised,

``And my illusion fled

`When his infernal truncheon raised

``A blister on my head.=

*****

`Sometimes at midnight's solemn hour

``I dream this dream again,

`And, thinking its _her_ form once more,

``The pillow tightly strain;=

`Or fiercely to the door I spring,

``And firmly grip the hasp,

`And smile to think I've got again

``The truncheon in my grasp.=

`The beads of sweat they gather fast,

``And from my nose they fall,

`I wake, and find, alas! alas!

``I'm not a trap at all!=

```* Originally contributed to _Sydney Punch_.

SUPERNATURAL REVELATIONS OF A FANCY-GOODS MAN,

OR THE DIABOLICAL DEMON OF THE DEADLY DRAIN.

|There lived in Parramatta Street

``A cove--his name was Joe--

`Who nightly sniffed its odours sweet

``(Not very long ago.)=

`Its every scent right well he knew,

``They often made him frown,

`And he was fancy-goods-man to

``A big firm here in town.=

`As Joe lay down one night--he slept

``In summer far from from well--

`A nameless horror o'er him crept,

``Of what he couldn't tell;

`His hair was rising up he knew,

``He felt his blood grow cold;

`He felt a little frightened, too,

``For Joseph wasn't bold.

`And while he vainly seeking rest,

``Lay tossing to and fro,

`By name he heard himself addressed--

``The unknown voice said, "Joe!"=

`"Arise, Oh Joseph! from thy bed--

``Arise, and follow me!

`Hush! not a word," the spirit said,

``"For I'm a ghost, d'ye see?=

`"Bring kerosene, and bring thy lamp,

``And arm thee to the teeth,

`For thou in yonder gloomy swamp

``Shalt win a laurel wreath."`=

`"Now follow me," the spirit said,

``"For well I know the track,

`And thou shall slay the demon dread

``Of Wattle Swamp the Black."=

`Then toward the demon's dread abode

``The ghastly goblin flits--

`The spirit was to show the road,

``And Joe to give him "fits."=

`And silently they followed all

``The windings of the creek;

`At times they heard a night-bird call--

``At times a tom-cat shriek.=

`But of the voices of the night

``They took no heed as yet;

`The ghost said, "Joseph, are you right?"

``And Joseph said, "You bet!"=

`And thus began the demon-hunt:

``The road was dark and drear;

`The ghost was mostly on in front,

``And Joseph in the rear.=

`At times they crawled along a trench

``That held Joe's feet like glue;

`And there was many a stifling stench,

``And many a cast off shoe.=

`And oft they waded deep in slime

``Where rotting herbage grew;

`The ghost said, "Joseph, take your time,"

``And Joseph murmured, "ph--ew!"=

`At length a dark and gloomy pond

``Appeared to block the track;

`The spirit was for goin' on,

``And Joe for goin' back.=

`Before the breeze his shirt-tails blow,

``And though he's sore distressed,

`The spirit said he had to go,

``And Joseph gave him best.=

`"Young man!" the spirit said, "'tis vain

``To bandy words with me;

`Just stretch those _bandy_ legs again,

``For I'm a ghost, d'ye see?"=

`And Joseph, making answer soft,

``They thus resumed the track--

`The spirit bore the lamp aloft,

``And Joseph on his back.=

`"Yon demon dread," the spirit said,

``"Has reaped his human crops,

`And feasted, battened on the dead

``Too long--we'll give him slops!"=

`he ghost explained the shrieks which rose

``From out the inky tides

`Were made by disembodied coves

``With pains in their insides.=

`E'en while he spoke a horrid smoke

``Belched forth upon the air,

`And forth fresh yells and shriekings broke,

``And up went Joseph's hair.=

`The spirit slid him from his back,

``But Joseph trembled so,

`And wished devoutly he was back

``With Messrs. Blank & Co.=

`"Stand firm!" the spirit said, "drink this

``'Tis strength and courage too;

`We'll awe this great metropolis

``With deeds of 'derring-do.'"=

`Then straightway rose before their sight

``The demon's war-like crest;

`He's green and blue, and black and white,

``With plague-spots on his breast.=

`I could not paint the demon's form--

``Distraught, convulsed with ire--

`His voice was like the thunder-storm,

``His eyes like lakes of fire.=

`He breathed forth typhoid, boils and croup

``With every breath he drew;

`His touch meant measles, whooping-cough

``And scarlatina too.=

`He comes with measured steps and slow--

``Earth groaned beneath his tramp--

`And with one grinding, crashing blow,

``He shivered Joseph's----lamp!=

`He glared around him, and his eyes

``Shone with a baleful light:

`"Who, who are ye," the demon cries,

``That wander through the night?=

`"Who, who are ye, that dare to come

``My fair domain to haunt?

`Go, seek some more congenial slum,

``Avaunt! d'ye hear? Avaunt!"=

`Now Joseph felt his courage rise

``From out his blucher boots,

`And while the cautious curlew cries,

``And while the swamp-owl hoots--=

`Despite a lingering touch of cramp--

``His muscles he did brace,

`And hurled the fragments of the lamp

``Slap in the demon's face!=

`"Who's this?" the demon said, said he,

``"A stalwart knight, I ween!

`My eyes are blind, I cannot see,

``They're full of kero_seen_"=

`Then Joseph's heart within him leapt--

``The demon being blind--

`Right gingerly he crawled and crept,

``And gave him one behind.=

`The spirit used a two-edged sword

``(He used it like an axe)

`And while that outraged giant roared,

``His right leg he attacks.

`Thus, thu close, that warlike pair,

``Upon the slimy beach,

`And Joseph poked him here and there,

``Wherever he could reach.=

`And while the giant squirmeth from

``The toasting-fork of Joe,

`The ghost (clean peeled) came grimly on

``To strike the final blow.=

`Then, Joe, when he his tactics knew,

``Attacked his other calf,

`And swamp-owls' echoed as they flew

``The spirit's ghastly laugh.=

`And soon, beneath those stalwart knocks

``Which echo and resound,

`The demon's severed person rocks

``And topples to the ground=

`"Go in and win," the spirit said--

``"Go in and win, old son!"

`The demon he was nearly dead.

``So Joe went in and won.=

`That ghost full many a 'spotted-gum'

``Had felled in life, you see,

`And so they felled that spotted one,

``For foul and fell was he.=

`"Now fetch me wedges," quoth the ghost,

``"For here, I guess, we'll camp;

`We'll blast his trunk, split rails and posts,

``And fence Blackwattle Swamp!"=

*****

`But stay! what means that sounding thwack?

``That agonizing roar?

`And how comes Joseph on his back--

``Upon his bedroom floor?=

`Where's now the elevated head,

``The majesty and pomp

`Of him who slew the demon dread

``That lived in Wattle Swamp?=

`Mephitic odours filled the room,

``And, acting on his brain,

`These made him dream of blackest gloom,

``And deadly demons slain.=

`'Till, rolling from his couch, he broke

``The silence with a scream,

`He bumped upon the floor--then woke, *

``And found it all a dream!=

`Next morning, so tradition tells,

``His way to church Joe took,

`To curse the Corporation swells

``With candle, bell, and book.=

* Justice compels me to state that the condition of the
swamp referred to has been materially improved of late, and
it is no longer the all-powerful and putrifying nuisance it
was.

`He prayed that they might cursèd be

``Within the Council hall,

`At evening parties, breakfast, tea,--

``At dinner most of all.=

`That they might feast in woe and grief,

``On chicken with the croup;

`That pleuro might infect their beef,

``And flies invade their soup;=

`That turtles, though so often "turned,"

``Might some day turn on them,

`And that at last they might be burned,

``And fricasseed in-hem!=

`And ne'er this curse shall lifted be

``From Aldermanic back,

`Until from odours foul set free

``Is Wattle Swamp the Black.`=

CHRISTMAS.

By a New Chum.

|What means that merry clanging chime

``Which fills the air with melody?

`They tell me that 'tis Christmas time,

``But that I think can scarcely be.=

`This explanation is, I say,

``A little bit too thin for me,

`While fiercely strikes the solar ray

``Through hat of straw and puggaree.=

`The centigrade, I grieve to see,

``Stands up at figures past belief,

`And naught but frequent S and B

``Gives my perspiring soul relief.=

``No veil of snow enwraps the lea,

``And as for skating in the Park,

`Or sledging, one as well might be

``On Ararat in Noahs ark.=

`Where is the icy blast, and where

``The white hoar frost, and driving sleet?

`At night I suffocate and swear

``With nothing on me but a sheet.=

`Mosquitoes hum the whole night through,

``And flies salute me when I wake

`In numbers anything but few,

``And yesterday I saw a snake.=

`No leaf decays; no flower dies;

``All nature seems as fair and bright

`As, when beneath Judean skies,

``The shepherds watched their flocks by night.=

`[In fair Judea's sunny clime,

``Among its mountain gorges lone,

`Those shepherds had a rosy time,

``For wire-fencing wasn't known.=

`They were not prone to "knocking-down"

``Of cheques or going on the spree,

`For "pubs" and "shanties" were not found

``Beside the Lake of Galilee.=

`They groaned not 'neath the squatters yoke;

``A life of pure arcadian ease

`Was theirs-ah! happy, happy blokes!

``For this digression, pardon, please.]=

`_Those_ Christmas chimes, indeed! their notes

``Awake no passing thought in me,

`Of flannel vests, and Ulster coats,

``So Christmas chimes they cannot be.=

`A drowsy hum is in the air--

``There's perspiration on my skin;

`The locusts eat the grass-plots bare,

``And deafen with their noisy din.=

`The folks were drinking summer drinks

``When first I landed here last "fall

`Tis summer still, alas! methinks

``They have no Christmas here at all.=

`But stay! that paper pile sublime--

``Of I O.U. and unpaid bill--

`Breathes somewhat of the festive time

``Of "peace on earth--to man good-will."=

`There's Starkey's bill for lemonade,

``And Peape's and Shaw's for summer suits,

`A host of others, all unpaid,

``For ice, and cubas, and cheroots.=

`Enough! 'tis proof enough for me--

``Proof stronger far than Christmas chime;

`Your pardon, friend, for doubting thee,

``Beyond a doubt 'tis Christmas time.=

"THE CATARACT." *

|I stood by the trunk of a giant box

And watched the Cataract down the rocks

``With ceaseless thunder go.

The boiling waters seethed and hissed,

And glittering clouds of gleaming mist

``Ascended from below.=

The fading glow of the sunlight slants

O'er the frowning cliff which the creeping plants,

``And moss, and lichens drape.

The mist spread forth on the sultry air--

'Twas wreathed in figures, some foul, some fair;

I traced the form of a spectre there

``Of weird and ghastly shape.=

There was silence, save for the summer breeze

Which swayed the tops of the mess-mate trees,

``And the torrent's noisy flow.

Awhile the figure seemed to stand,

Then waved a shadowy, spectral hand,

``And pointed down below.=

* Written for the Town and Country Journal, March 25th,
1876, with reference to the well-known Cataract near Berrima.

With wild vague thoughts my fancy strove

Of hidden riches, and treasure trove,

``And gems and jewels bright;

And what, thought I, if the omen's true?

And thick and fast such fancies grew

Till rock, and torrent, and spectre too

``All faded from my sight=

I saw the crust of the earth removed--

Each wild conjecture fairly proved--

``I saw, 'twas even so,

Peerless gems of price untold,

Piles on piles of glittering gold,

And the moon-beams glinted clear and cold

``On the wealth that lay below.=

Ere long men came to that valley "fair;

They sought for coal-black diamonds there,

``And they dragged them from below:

And the furnace fires, the hiss of steam,

And the whirr of fly-wheel, belt, and beam

Fulfilled that shadowy, golden dream

``I dreamt so long ago.=

THE STOCKMAN'S GRAVE.

|Tom the stockman's gone--he'll never

``Use again his supple thong,

`Or, dashing madly through the mulga,

``Urge the scattered herd along.=

`O'er for Tom is life's hard battle!

``Well he rode, and nothing feared;

`Never more among the cattle

``Shall his cheery voice be heard.=

`Liked he was with' all his failings;

``Let no idle hand efface.

`That rude ring of rough split palings,

``Marking out his resting place.=

`Sadly have his comrades left him

``Where the cane-grass, gently stirred

`By the north wind, bends and quivers--

``Where the bell-bird's note is heard;=

`Where the tangled "boree" blossoms,

``Where the "gidya" thickets wave,

`And the tall yapunyah's * shadow

``Rests upon the stockman's grave.

* A species of Eucalyptus which flourishes on the Paroo and
in the west of Queensland.

EPITAPH ON A CONVIVIAL SHEARER.

|Here Thompson lies--good worthy man--

``Come, gentle reader, nearer;

`He's now as quiet as a lamb

``Though once he was a shearer.=

`Though many sheep in life he shore,

``He's now beyond retrieving!

`He's _sheered_ off to that other _shore_

``Which surely there's no leaving.=

`Though he o'er ewes and wethers too

``Was often bent, I'm thinking

`Rough _weather_ o'er him bends the _yew_--

``He killed himself with drinking.=

`No more in shed, or yard, or hut

``Will Thompson be appearing!

`On wings of _down_ his soul flew _up_--

``He's gone where there's no shearing.=

`He often handled "Ward and Payne's,"*

``For he was often shearing!

`Alas! the pains of death reward

``His everlasting beering.=

`And from his fingers dropped the shears,

``For nature's debt was pressing;

`Death nailed his body for arrears--

``His spirit effervescing.=

`Though at his jokes we often roared,

``He's now a soundish sleeper!

`His crop of chaff at length is floored

``By Death, that mighty reaper.=

* Note.--Ward and Payne's sheep shears are or were most in
use in the Australian Colonies when the above was written.

A CANDIDATE FOR AN EARLY GRAVE.

|What makes me wear my boots so tight,

``And much pomatum buy,

`Toss restless on my bed at night,

``And like an earthquake sigh?=

`I 've seen a maid, I'd fain persuade

``That girl to fancy me;

`Thrice happy fate with such a mate

``For life as Polly C------!=

`But then I can't without her aunt

``That damsel ever see;

`Why must there always be a "but"

``Between my hopes and me?=

`And Polly C------ has got to be

``Between me and my peace,

`For though I can't endure the aunt,

``I idolize the neice.=

`The aunt is forty-three at least,

``The neice but seventeen;

`For her I pine, for her so greased

``My hair of late has been.=

`For her my feet are close compressed

``In boots a deal too tight;

`For her I sacrifice my rest,

``And get no sleep at night;=

`For her I run that tailor's bill

``That makes my father swear,

`And to the grave I fear it will

``Bring down his grizzled hair.=

*****

`We met, but 'twas not in a crowd,

``It was not at a ball,

`Nor where cascades with thunder loud

``From precipices fall;=

`Nor where the mountain torrents rush,

``Or ocean billows heave;

`Nor at the railway terminus

``'Mid cries of "by'r leave;"=

`It was not in the forest wild,

``Nor on the silent sea--

`Romantic reader don't be riled--

``'Twas at a "spelling-bee."=

`'Twas there I marked the jetty coil

``That crowned her classic head--

`The perfumes of macassar oil

``Were all around her shed.=

`And o'er the meaner spirits there

``Her mighty soul arose;

`Her intellect and genius were

``Aspiring--like her nose.=

`And Polly was the fairest there--

``'The goddess of the class--

`Among the _poly_syllables

``Unscathed I saw her pass.=

`Examiners with piercing eye,

``And terror-striking frown

`In vain to trip her up might try--

``In vain to take her down.=

`She triumphs, and the loud applause

``From roof to basement rings--

`Each other girl with envy gnaws

``Her hat and bonnet strings.=

`Sometimes (regardless of expense)

``I dressed and went to church;

`One glimpse of her would recompense

``My eager longing search.=

`And, while the swelling organ rent

``The air with solemn tunes,

`On spelling-bees my thoughts were bent

``And happy honeymoons.=

`And where I brooding sat alone

``The wildest dreams I dreamt,

`And swore to win her for my own

``Or "bust' in the attempt.=

*****

`We met at parties, and our toes

``Whirl in the dreamy waltz,

`And if at times a thought arose--

``Could hair like that be false?=

`I sniffed the reassuring coil

``That shamed the damask rose,

`And could not breathe a thought disloyal

``While that was near my nose.=

`At length her aunt--the summer gone--

``The influenza got;

`To see my Polly to her home

``It oft became my lot.=

`And if I took the longest way

``The fraud was never known,

`For organ of "locality"

``My darling she had none.=

`One night, about the supper hour,

``Thanks to some kindly fate,

`We reached the entrance to her bower--

``I mean the garden gate.=

`It was a gloomy night and wet

``With rain and driving sleet,

`And more than common risk beset

``Pedestrians in the street.=

`From harm from wheel of cab or cart

``I'd kept my darling free,

`And in the fulness of her heart

``She asked me in to tea.=

`Her aunt, that stately dame and grand,

``Looked knives and forks at me;

`She'd "Butter's Spelling" in her hand,

``And "Webster" on her knee.=

`Her bead-like eyes gleamed bright behind

``The spectacles she wore;

`Of intellect and strength of mind

``She had enough for four.=

`And tall her figure was, and spare,

``And bony were her joints;

`Orthography and grammar were

``The strongest of her points.=

`A morbid taste this virgin chaste

``For dictionaries had;

`Though Polly C. might perfect be,

``Her aunt was spelling mad.=

`I felt that if an angel bright

``To earth from Oether fell,

`She'd either give that Son of Light

``Some heavy word to spell,=

`Or else she'd get him on to parse,

``'Till sick of earthly things,

`He'd work his passage to the stars

``Upon his downy wings.=

`At Dr. Blank's academy,

``I never took the lead;

`My grammar and orthography

``Were very weak indeed,=

`And oft those academic walls

``Have echoed to my howls,

`Responsive to the Doctor's calls

``For consonants and vow'ls.=

`His rules respecting "Q's" and "P's"

``Were graven on our backs,

`And though we had no spelling-bees,

``I got my share of _whacks_.=

`For what the Doctor failed to see

``Impressed upon the mind,

`Was certain very soon to be

``Impressed in full _behind_.=

`But still, despite the scathing look,

``And cane of Dr. Blank.

`My spelling powers never took

``An elevated rank.=

`And if my hopes of Polly hung

``Upon so frail a thread,

`My life was blighted 'ere begun--

``My hopes, scarce born, were dead.=

`All silent through that evening meal

``I sat with bended head,

`And now and then a glance I steal

``At Polly while she fed;=

`But though her eyes I often seek,

``I only look at most;

`My heart's too full of love to speak,

``My mouth too full of toast.=

`Oh! sweet love-feast!--too sweet to last--

``Oh! bitter after-cud!

`Oh! spinster grim why didst thou blast

``Love's blossom in the bud?=

`For, ere one happy hour could pass,

``That virgin grim and fell

`Invited me to join the class

``Where Polly went to spell;=

`And though I trembled in my shoes,

``In hopeless agony,

`Could I the aunt of her refuse

``Whose _spell_ was over me?=

`At length arrived the dreaded hour,

``And primed with _eau de vie_,

`I sought that orthographic bower

``Where met the spelling-bee.=

`No hope of prizes lured me toward

``Those hundred gleaming eyes,

`For me there was but one reward,

``And Polly was the prize.=

`For her my dull ambition leapt,

``In literary lists

`To cope with lunatics who slept

``With "Webster" in their fists.=

`Vague dread forebodings cloud my brow,

``And make my cheek grow pale,

`Oh! Dr. Johnson help me now--

``My hopes are in the scale!=

`My frame with apprehension shook;

``To nerve me for the task,

`With tender, longing, yearning look

``I eyed my pocket-flask,=

`And tempted by the spirit bright

``That dwelt within its lips,

`I put the contents out of sight

``In two convulsive sips.=

`A stony-eyed examiner

``Came in and took the chair;

`I knew a place that's spelt with "H,"

``And wished that he was there.=

`I softly cursed his form erect,

``His "specs" with golden rim,

`And prayed that doctors might dissect

``His body limb from limb.=

`But soon the spirit's subtle fume

``Obfusticates my view;

`The common objects of the room

``Seem multiplied by two.=

`My breast, the late abode of funk,

``With courage was embued;

`I was a little less than drunk,

``And something more than screwed.=

`And while my heart beat loud and fast

``With wild convulsive pants,

`I saw _two_ Pollys, and alas!

``A _pair_ of Polly's Aunts!

`I fail to solve the mystery

``Which Polly I prefer,

`But thought I'd like _Poly_gamy

``With duplicates of her.

`Involved in intellectual gloom,

``I found the A. B. C.

`Had vanished, vanquished by the fumes

``Of Henessey's P. B.

`And when that stony-looking one

``Applied at length to me,

`I spelt "consumption" with a "K,"

``And "kangaroo" with "C"!

`I will not paint these harrowing scenes,

``Nor keep thee, reader, long,

`Nor tell thee how I shocked the "Bee"

``By breaking forth in song.=

`Two orthographic youths arose,

``And dragged me from the room,

`Despite my wild and aimless blows,

``Into the outer gloom.=

`With force, and tender soothing tones

``They led me from the hall,

`And laid me on the cold, cold stones

``Beneath the bare brick wall.=

`They spread for me no blanket warm.

``No cloak or 'possum-rug,

`And peelers bore my helpless form

``In triumph to the "Jug."=

`Next day I found the "summons-_sheet_"

``A _blanket_ cold indeed;

`I felt that liberty was sweet,

``I wanted to be freed:=

`But peelers' hearts are solid rock,

``They wouldn't hear me speak,

`They dragged me to the felon's dock

``Before a hook-nosed "beak."=

`He offered me--that hook-nosed "beak"--

``The option of a fine,

`In place of many a weary week

``Of punishment condign.=

`I mutely pointed to my Sire,

``The fount of my supplies,

`And then bereft of joy I left

``The court with tearful eyes.=

`I could not read again and live

``The note I got 'ere long,

`From Polly's single relative

``Anent my goings on.=

`She told me it would be as well

``Our intercourse should cease--

`That one who drank, and couldn't spell

``Should never have her niece.=

`She recommended frugal fare,

``And lexicons, and pumps,

`But when I think of Polly's hair

``My own comes out in lumps!=

`Oh! tell me not a "spelling-bee's"

``A sweet and pleasant thing;

`I've drunk of sorrow's bitter lees--

``I've felt that insect's sting.=

`My hopes are dead, despair hath spread

``O'er me its blackest pall;

`The honey and the wine of life.

``Are turned to bitter gall.=

`Although I'm barely twenty-one

``My crop of care is ripe!

`No joy have I in moon or sun,

``Or in my meerchaum pipe.=

`Oh! where are now the happy days,

``When first I learnt to smoke?

`When life seemed one long holiday--

``Existence but a joke?=

`When I'd no other thought or care

``Except my cane to gnaw,

`And train the soft incipient hair

``That grew upon my jaw?=

`They've passed away those happy day

``And now I only crave

`A brief, brief life--an early death,

``A requiem, and a grave.=

`And billiards now I never play;

``Not long my father will

`Be troubled by me to defray

``That tailor's lengthened bill.=

`I never wink at bar-maids now,

``But soberly I tread

`As walketh one whose home's among

``The cold and silent dead.=

`One debt lies heavy on my breast

``I'd like to pay but can't;

`I'd like, before I go to rest,

``To settle Polly's aunt.=

`I hope they'll take her where the time

``Counts not by days and weeks--

`The place of which 'tis wrong to rhyme,

``And no one ever speaks!=

`'Tis where the letters that she loves--

``The consonants and vow'ls--

`Are _melted down in patent stoves,

``And moulded into howls!_=

A PEELER'S APPEAL

Against the Helmet of Modern Times.

|I was a peeler of a kind

`That's seldom met with now;

``I used to part my hair behind,

```It clustered o'er my brow=

``In glossy ringlets, crisp and dark;

```I had a massive chest,

``And oft I lit love's fatal spark

```Within the female breast.=

``The buttons on my coat of blue

```Shone with effulgent light,

``And cooks with eyes of dazzling hue

```Fell prostrate at the sight.

``At almost every kitchen door

```They met me with a smile;

``But then in modest pride I wore

```The regulation tile.=

``No more they come with outstretched arms

```My person to enwrap;

``No more they hold the mutton cold

```As sacred to the trap.=

``They never asks me into sup;

```No smoking joints they bile;

``They hates this cursed new-come-up--

```This 'elmet mean and vile.=

``The boys what vends the "Evenin' News,'"

```When I comes stalkin' by,

``Awakes each alley, lane and mews,

```With, "Crikey! 'ere's a guy!"=

``The cabbies stare so hard at me,

```No wonder I gets huffed;

``They grins, and axes who I be,

```And if I'm "real or stuffed"=

``And when I walks about my beat

```The hosses dreads the sight;

``They stands up endways in the street

```A snortin' with affright.=

``The 'bus-conductors winks and leers,

```And holds their sides and splits;

``And kids of very tender years

```I frightens into fits.=

``I once was right at forty-four

```For supper, lunch, and tea;

``Upon this bosom Susan swore

```She'd never love but me.=

``Alas! for that inconstant cook

```The 'elmet 'ad no charms;

``A most sanguineous butcher took

```My Susan to his arms.=

``My Susan's cheeks were fair and sleek--

```So were the chops she cooked;

``But on her chops, and on her cheek,

```My last I fear I've looked.=

``That butcher said as how 'twas _meat_

```That me and she should part,

``And never more for me will beat

```That culinary 'eart.=

``Now listen you who've got to fix

```What bobbies is to wear,

``And if your 'earts aim 'ard as bricks,

```Oh! 'ear a peelers prayer.=

``Oh! take the elmet from my brow--

```The curse from off my 'ed;

``You aint no sort o' notion ow

```I wishes I wos dead.=

``There's nothing calculated more

```A cove's good looks to spile;

``Oh! if you've 'carts, restore, restore,

```The regulation tile!=

``You can't give back that cook's fond 'eart--

```Her chops, her cheek, her smile;

``But if you'd make amends in part,

```Restore, restore my tile!

|THE following verses will probably be more intelligible to the bush reader than the metropolitan one. The latter is at liberty to "pass":--

THE OLD HAND.

|I'm forty years in New South Wales,

`And knows a thing or two;

``Can build a hut, and train a slut,

```And chaff a "Jackeroo." *

````* See reference b.

``I chiefly sticks to splittin' rails--

```It's contract work, d'ye see;

``I hates to ave a station-boss

```A-overlookin' me.=

``I left my country for its good,

```But not my own, I fear;

``I makes big cheques a splittin' wood,

```And knocks 'em down in beer.=

``I knows the Murrumbidgee's bends,

```Though not a "whaler" * now,

``And many a score of sheep I've shore

```For good old Jacky Dow.=

``I used to knock about on farms,

```And plough a "land" or two;

``But now for me that has no charms--

```I hates a "Cockatoo." **=

* Murrumbidgee whalers are a class of loafers who work for
about six months in the year--i.e. during shearing and
harvest, and camp the rest of the time in bends of rivers,
and live by fishing and begging.

** A small farmer.

``I'm splittin' for a squatter now

```Down here upon the creek;

``He often says as how I've got

```A sight too much o' cheek.=

``They've got a new-chum over there--

```I hates new-chums, I do;

``I often tries to take a rise

```Out of that Jackeroo.=

``One day when we was in the yard

```A draftin' out some ewes,

``We axed him for to lend a hand,

```He couldn't well refuse.=

``I watched 'un for a minute just

```To see what he would do;

``Bless'd if he warn't a chuckin' out

```A lot o' wethers too!=

``He keeps the store and sarves the "dust"--*

```I only wish he'd slope;

``I knows he often books to me

```Too many bars o' soap.=

``In them it ain't no sort o' use

```Instruction to infuse;

``There ain t a gleam o' intellect

```In new-chum Jackeroos.=

``As soon as July fogs is gone

```I chucks my axe up there,

``And gets a stock of Ward and Payne's*

```At six and six a pair.=

``I've been a shearin' off an' on

```For such a precious while,

``I knows most every shearin' shed,

```And each partickler style.=

``I'm able for to shear 'em clean,

```And level as a die;

``But I prefers to 'tommy-hawk,"

```And make the "daggers" fly.=

``They mostly says that to the skin

```They means to have 'em shore;

``I alius knocks off skin an' all

```When they begins to jawr.=

* Ward and Payne's sheep-shears.

``My tally's eighty-five a day--

```A hundred I could go,

``If coves would let me "open out"

```And take a bigger "blow."=

``I allus roughs 'em when the boss

```Ain't on the shearin' floor;

``It wouldn't pay to shear 'em clean

```For three and six a score.=

``But when I see the super come

```Paradin' down the "board,"

``I looks as meek as any lamb

```That ever yet was shored.

``For, though by knockin' sheep about

```You're causin' him a loss,

``It's 'ard to have a squatter come

``And mark 'em with a cross. *=

``They say us shearers sulks and growls--

```I'm swearing half the day,

``Because them blasted "pickers-up"

```Won't take the wool away.=

* Sheep badly shorn are marked with a cross in red chalk,
and are not paid for

``At sundown to the hut we goes;

```The young 'uns lark and fun;

``The cook and I exchanges blows

```If supper isn't done.=

``And when the tea and mutton's gone,

```And each has had enough,