The Wargeilah Handicap
Wargeilah town is very small, There’s no cathedral nor a club, In fact the township, all in all, Is just one unpretentious pub; And there, from all the stations round, The local sportsmen can
Boots
We’ve travelled per Joe Gardiner, a humping of our swag In the country of the Gidgee and Belar. We’ve swum the Di’mantina with our raiment in a bag, And we’ve travelled per superior motor
The Maori's Wool
The Maoris are a mighty race the finest ever known; Before the missionaries came they worshipped wood and stone; They went to war and fought like fiends, and when the war was done They
That Half-Crown Sweep
The run of Billabong-go-dry Is just beyond Lime Burner’s Gap; Its waterhole and tank supply Is excellent upon the map. But lacking nature’s liquid drench, The station staff are wont to try With “Bob-in
Swinging the Lead
Said the soldier to the Surgeon, “I’ve got noises in me head And a kind o’ filled up feeling after every time I’m fed; I can sleep all night on picket, but I can’t
The Two Devines
It was shearing time at the Myall Lake, And then rose the sound through the livelong day Of the constant clash that the shear-blades make When the fastest shearers are making play; But there
Why the Jackass Laughs
The Boastful Crow and the Laughing Jack Were telling tales of the outer back: “I’ve just been travelling far and wide, At the back of Bourke and the Queensland side; There isn’t a bird
Driver Smith
‘Twas Driver Smith of Battery A was anxious to see a fight; He thought of the Transvaal all the day, he thought of it all the night “Well, if the battery’s left behind, I’ll
Commandeering
Our hero was a Tommy with a conscience free from care, And such an open countenance that when he breathed the air He mopped up all the atmosphere so little went to spare You
Waltzing Matilda
Oh! there once was a swagman camped in the Billabong, Under the shade of a Coolabah tree; And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling, “Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”