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    <title>
      Southerly Busters, by G.H. Gibsong (AKA Ironbark)
    </title>
<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45391 ***</div>

    <div style="height: 8em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h1>
      SOUTHERLY BUSTERS,
    </h1>
    <h2>
      By G. H. Gibson (AKA Ironbark)
    </h2>
    <h3>
      Illustrated By Alfred Clint <br /> <br /> With Additional Illustrations by
      Montagu Scott.
    </h3>
    <blockquote>
      <p>
        Many of these Scraps were originally contributed by the Author to "The
        Town and Country Journal," "Sydney Punch," "The Illustrated Sydney
        News," and other Australian newspapers and magazines.
      </p>
    </blockquote>
    <h5>
      John Sands, Printer <br /> <br /> 1878
    </h5>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/005m.jpg" alt="005m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/005.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/006m.jpg" alt="006m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/006.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      <b>CONTENTS</b>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_NOTE"> NOTES. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> AUTHOR'S PREFACE. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> LINES BY A (PAWN)BROKEN-HEARTED YOUTH. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE ANCIENT SHEPHERD </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> WHERE IS FREEDOM? </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE CATTLE MUSTER. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> WHAT AN ECHO TOLD THE AUTHOR. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE SHEPHERD'S VENGEANCE. </a>
    </p>
<p class="toc">
      <a href="#social"> SOCIAL EVILS. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> MORAL PHILOSOPHY FOR LITTLE FOLKS. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> AN AMBITIOUS DREAM. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> SUPERNATURAL REVELATIONS OF A FANCY-GOODS MAN,
      </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> CHRISTMAS. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> "THE CATARACT." * </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE STOCKMAN'S GRAVE. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> EPITAPH ON A CONVIVIAL SHEARER. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> A CANDIDATE FOR AN EARLY GRAVE. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> A PEELER'S APPEAL </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THE OLD HAND. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> THE BUTCHER'S PIC-NIC. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> THE OYSTERMEN'S AND FISHMONGERS' PIC-NIC. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> THE WHEELWRIGHTS' PIC-NIC. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> THE UNDERTAKER'S PIC-NIC. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> THE HAIRDRESSERS' PIC-NIC. </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> THE GREAT CRICKET MATCH. </a>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_NOTE" id="link2H_NOTE"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      NOTES.
    </h2>
    <p>
      a. "Billy," a tin pot for making tea in.
    </p>
    <p>
      b. Young gentlemen getting their "colonial experience" in the bush are
      called "jackeroos" by the station-hands. The term is seldom heard except
      in the remote "back-blocks" of the interior.
    </p>
    <p>
      c. It was formerly the practice of squatters to give a ration of flour,
      mutton, and, occasionally, tea and sugar, to all persons travelling
      ostensibly in search of work. The custom, however, as might have been
      expected, became frightfully abused by loafers, and has of late fallen
      into disuse, to the intense disgust of the tramping fraternity in general.
    </p>
    <p>
      d. The Yanko is a noted sheep-station in the Murrumbidge district (the
      Paradise of loafers), where travellers were, and, I believe, still are,
      feasted at the expense of the owners, on a scale of great magnificence,
      and somewhat mistaken liberality.
    </p>
    <p>
      e. The utterly refined and unsophisticated reader is informed that to
      "whip the cat" signifies, in nautical parlance, to weep or lament.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> AM assured that
      something in the way of an apologetic preface is always expected from a
      "new-chum" author who has had the hardihood to jump his Pegasus over the
      paddock fence (so to speak), and drop, uninvited, into the field of
      letters; and so, having induced a publisher, in a moment of weakness, to
      bring me before the public, it behoves me to conciliate that
      long-suffering body by conforming to all established rules. I am aware
      that my excuse for inflicting this work on mankind is somewhat "thin" but,
      such as it is, I will proceed to state it, as a "plea in bar" against all
      active and offensive expressions of indignation on the part of outraged
      humanity.
    </p>
    <p>
      Having "got me some ideas," as Mr Emmett says in the character of "Fritz,"
      and feeling the necessity for inflicting them on somebody imminent, I
      tried their effect on my own immediate circle of friends. It was not
      satisfactory. They listened, indeed, for a while, thinking that I was
      suffering from a slight mental derangement which would be best treated by
      judicious humouring. Some even affected to be entertained, and laughed
      (what a hollow mockery of merriment it was! ) at atrocious puns; but I
      could see the look of hate steal over countenances which had hitherto
      beamed on me with interest and affection, and was not deceived.
    </p>
    <p>
      I saw that friendship would not long survive such a test and desisted; but
      it was too late. They perceived I had what Artemus Ward calls the "poetry
      disease;" feared that it might be infectious; knew that it was an
      insufferable bore to the afflicted party's circle of acquaintances; and&mdash;forgot
      to visit me.
    </p>
    <p>
      When their familiar knocks no longer resounded on the door of my lodging
      in &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; street, and their familiar footsteps
      ceased to crush the cockroaches on the dark and winding staircase leading
      to my apartment, I bethought me of that institution which I had always
      heard alluded to as the "kind and generous public." Here, I thought (for I
      was unsophisticated), is the very friend I am in need of, which will
      receive me with its thousand arms, laugh with me with its thousand mouths,
      weep with me with its thousand eyes, and whose thousand hearts will beat
      in unison with mine whether my mood be one of sadness or of joy; behave
      itself, in fact, like a species of benevolent and sympathetic Hydra, shorn
      of its terrors, and fit to take part in the innocent and arcadian
      recreations of the millenium, when the (literary) lion shall lie down with
      the critic, and newspapers shall not lie any more&mdash;even for money.
    </p>
    <p>
      During my hunt for that all essential auxiliary, a publisher, without whom
      the first step on the road to literary distinction (or extinction) cannot
      be taken, I learnt a few plain truths about my hydra-headed friend;
      amongst others that he was not to be hoodwinked, and would neither laugh,
      weep, nor sympathise unless he saw good and sufficient cause. I am in
      consequence not quite so sanguine as I was. However, I have gone too far
      to recede, and have concluded to throw myself on the bosom or bosoms of
      that animal and take my chances of annihilation.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of my unsympathising friends assured me the other day that my book
      would certainly send anyone to sleep who should attempt its perusal. I
      gave him a ballad to read, and watched him anxiously while he skimmed a
      page or two. <i>He</i> did not sleep&mdash;not he, but a raging thirst
      overcame him at the fourteenth verse, and he begged me to send for a jug
      of "half-and-half" with such earnestness that a new and dreadful
      apprehension filled my breast. If this was to be the effect of my work on
      the Public at large, I should empty the Temperance Hall, and fill the
      Inebriate Asylum in six months! As I had hitherto prided myself that my
      work was entirely free from any immoral tendency, I earnestly hoped that
      his organization was a peculiar one, and that its effect on him was
      exceptional, and not; likely to happen again.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sleep, indeed! Would that these pages might be found to possess the subtle
      power of inducing "tired Nature's sweet restorer" to visit the weary
      eyelids of knocked-up humanity; that they might become a domestic
      necessity, like Winslows "soothing-syrup," and "a blessing to mothers;"
      that the critic&mdash;pausing midway in a burst of scathing invective
      against their literary and metrical deficiencies&mdash;overcome by their
      drowsy influence&mdash;might sink in dreamless slumber, and wake to sing
      in praise of their narcotic properties, and chaunt their merits as a
      soporific.
    </p>
    <p>
      In conclusion, I would fain ask thee, gentlest of gentle readers, to look
      with leniency on the many defects and shortcomings of this volume, and to
      remember that the writer was long, if not an outcast, a homeless wanderer
      among the saltbush plains and and sandhills of Australia, and the kauri
      and pouriri forests of New Zealand; that, for seven years, the prototypes
      of "Ancient Bill," hereinafter mentioned, were his associates; and that,
      if these experiences have enabled him to touch with some degree of
      accuracy on matters relating to the Bush, they have at the same time
      militated against the cultivation of those refinements of style and
      language which commend the modern author to his reader, and which are Only
      to be acquired in the civilized atmosphere of a city.
    </p>
    <p>
      N.B.&mdash;I desire here to thank my friend, Mr. Henry Wise, of Sydney, to
      whom I am indebted for the design which adorns the cover of the book.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> beheld a shadow
      dodging, on the pavement 'neath my
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      lodging,
    </p>
    <p>
      'Neath my unpretending lodging&mdash;opposite the very door:
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Tis that prodigal," I muttered, "who enjoys the second
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      floor&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      He it is, and nothing more."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Answering my thoughts, I stated, "'Tis the artist that's located
    </p>
    <p>
      Here, returning home belated, seeking entrance at the door&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Coming back from where he's revelled, and, like me, with locks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      dishevelled,
    </p>
    <p>
      Wits besotted and bedevilled, oft I've seen him so before;
    </p>
    <p>
      'Tis no rare unknown occurrence, but a customed thing of
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      yore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Jones it is, and nothing more."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Certain then 'twas no illusion, "Sir," I said, in some
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      confusion,
    </p>
    <p>
      "Pardon my abrupt intrusion&mdash;Mr. Jones, we've met before;
    </p>
    <p>
      Potent drinks have o'er me bubbled, and the fact is I was
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      troubled,
    </p>
    <p>
      For your form seemed strangely doubled, and my brain is sick
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      and sore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Let us seek my room and cupboard, and its mystery explore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      There is gin, if nothing more."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Deep into the darkness glaring, I beheld a radiance flaring,
    </p>
    <p>
      And a pair of eyes were staring&mdash;eyes I'd never seen before&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And, my fear and dread enhancing, towards me came a form
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      advancing,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the rays of light were dancing from a lantern which it
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      bore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twas a regulation bull's-eye&mdash;"'Tis a (something) Trap," I
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      swore &mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      "'Tis a Trap, and nothing more."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Glittering with the P. C. button, redolent of recent mutton,
    </p>
    <p>
      (Fitting raiment for a glutton) was the garment which he
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      wore;
    </p>
    <p>
      And his vast colossal figure, in the pride of manly vigour,
    </p>
    <p>
      Looming larger, looming bigger, came betwixt me and the
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      door&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Cutting off my hopes of entrance to my home at number four&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Stood, and stared, and nothing more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And his features, grimly smiling, calm, unmoved, (intensely
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      riling)
    </p>
    <p>
      I betake me to reviling, and a stream of chaff outpour&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Say, thou grim and stately brother, has thy fond and doting
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      mother
    </p>
    <p>
      Got at home like thee another? Art thou really one of four?
    </p>
    <p>
      Did she, did she sell the mangle? Tell me truly, I implore!"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Quoth the Peeler, "Hold your jawr!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Long I stood there fiercely glaring, most profanely cursing,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      swearing&mdash; .
    </p>
    <p>
      And my right arm I was baring, meaning thus the Trap to
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      floor&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/021m.jpg" alt="021m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/021.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Straight he grabbed me by the collar, said 'twas worse than
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      vain to holler,
    </p>
    <p>
      That his person I must foller to the gloomy prison door;
    </p>
    <p>
      "'Tell me, Robert," said I sadly, "must I go the Bench
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      before?"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Quoth the Peeler, "'Tis the lawr!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Shall I be with felons banded, by the 'beak' be reprimanded,
    </p>
    <p>
      And with infamy be branded?&mdash;thou art versed in prison
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      lore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Say not, Robert, that my bread will 'ere be earned upon the
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      tread-mill,
    </p>
    <p>
      That a filthy prison bed will echo to my fevered snore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Ever echo to the music of my wild unearthly snore!"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Quoth the Peeler, "'Tis the lawr!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thought on thought of bitter sadness, dissipating hope and
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      gladness,
    </p>
    <p>
      Goading me to worse than madness, crowded on me by the
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      score;
    </p>
    <p>
      Ne'er before incarcerated, how that Peeler's form I hated,
    </p>
    <p>
      Cries for freedom, unabated&mdash;'wrenched from out my bosom's
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      core'&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Broke upon the midnight stillness, "Robert, set me free
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      once more!"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Quoth the Peeler, "Never more!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Never since the days of Julian was there such a mass
    </p>
    <p>
      herculean
    </p>
    <p>
      Clad in garments so cerulean, with so little brains in store;
    </p>
    <p>
      And I cursed his name, and number, and his form as useless
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      lumber
    </p>
    <p>
      Only fit to snore and slumber on a greasy kitchen floor&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      On the slime bespattered boarding of a greasy kitchen floor&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Fit for this and nothing more!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And my heart was heavy loaded with a sorrow which
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      corroded,
    </p>
    <p>
      And my expletives exploded with a deep and muffled roar;
    </p>
    <p>
      But a sudden inspiration checked the clammy perspiration
    </p>
    <p>
      That 'till now, without cessation, streaming ran from every pore,
    </p>
    <p>
      And what checked the perspiration that ran streaming from
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      each pore
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Was a thought, and nothing more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      In my pocket was a shilling! Could that giant form be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      willing,
    </p>
    <p>
      Tempted by the hope of swilling beer, to set me free once
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      more?
    </p>
    <p>
      Tempted by the lust of riches, and the silver shilling
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      which is
    </p>
    <p>
      In the pocket in my breeches, and my liberty restore?
    </p>
    <p>
      Hastily that garment searching, from its depths I fiercely tore
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      But a 'Bob,' and nothing more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Wrenched it from my trousers' pocket,
    </p>
    <p>
      While his eye within the socket gleamed and sparkled like a
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      rocket,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Grimly rolled, and gloated o'er,
    </p>
    <p>
      Glared upon me&mdash;vainly mining in my pockets' depths&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      repining
    </p>
    <p>
      That its worn and threadbare lining
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      <i>IT</i> should press, ah! never more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/024m.jpg" alt="024m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/024.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Said I, while the coin revealing, "Robert, I've a tender
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      feeling
    </p>
    <p>
      For the Force there's no concealing, and thy manly form
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      adore;
    </p>
    <p>
      Thee I ne'er to hurt or slay meant; take, oh! take this
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      humble payment&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Take thy grasp from off my raiment, and thy person from
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      my door;
    </p>
    <p>
      Though I like thee past expression, though I venerate the
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      corps,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Fain I'd bid thee '<i>Au revoir!</i>'
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And I view with approbation that official's hesitation,
    </p>
    <p>
      For his carnal inclination with his duty was at war;
    </p>
    <p>
      But that Peeler, though he muttered, knew which side his
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      bread was buttered,
    </p>
    <p>
      But a word or two he uttered, and his choking grasp fore-
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      bore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And he, when his clutching fingers from their choking grasp
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      forebore,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Vanished, and was seen no more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Oft at night when I'm returning, and the foot-path scarce
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      discerning&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Whiskey-fumes within me burning like a molten reservoir&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      In imagination kneeling, oft in fancy I'm appealing
    </p>
    <p>
      To the kind and manly feeling of that giant Trap once more&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      To the tender kindly feeling of the Trap I saw before&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Vanished now for ever more!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      LINES BY A (PAWN)BROKEN-HEARTED YOUTH.
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/026m.jpg" alt="026m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/026.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Oh! take back the ticket thou gavest,
    </p>
    <p>
      And give me my watch and my ring,
    </p>
    <p>
      And may every sixpence thou savest
    </p>
    <p>
      Be armed with a centipede's sting!
    </p>
    <p>
      O ! uncle, I never expected
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Such grief would result from my calls,
    </p>
    <p>
      When, hard-up, depressed, and dejected,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I came to the Three Golden Balls.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I noticed thy free invitation&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Enticing (though brief)&mdash;"Money Lent
    </p>
    <p>
      I came to thee, oh, my relation,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For succour, for mine was all spent.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thine int'rest in me was affecting&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I noticed a tear in thine eye,
    </p>
    <p>
      Without for a moment suspecting
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      How <i>int'rest</i> would tell by and bye.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      It's true I'd been doing the heavy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And going a trifle too fast;
    </p>
    <p>
      I've been a most dutiful 'nevvy,'&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But, uncle, I know thee at last;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I brought thee a gun, and a pistol,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And borrowed a couple of pound,
    </p>
    <p>
      Then exit, and cheerfully whistle
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In time to my heart's happy bound.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought thee a regular "trimmer,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I thought thee a generous man;
    </p>
    <p>
      I drank to thy health in a brimmer,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And pretty nigh emptied the can.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I went with a mob "to do evil,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I laughed, and I danced, and I sang;
    </p>
    <p>
      Bid sorrow fly off to the Devil,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And care and depression go hang.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I looked on the vintage that's ruby,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I "looked on the wine" that "is red,"
    </p>
    <p>
      But 'twasn't mere looking o'erthrew me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or made it get into my head.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      In spite of the Israelite's warning,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In spite of what Solomon said,
    </p>
    <p>
      You may <i>look</i> from the dusk to the dawning,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And still toddle sober to bed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Away with such hollow pretences!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It wasn't from <i>watching</i> the cup
    </p>
    <p>
      I lost the control of my senses,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or, falling, I couldn't get up.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Destruction again was before me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And empty once more was my purse,
    </p>
    <p>
      But thoughts of mine uncle came o'er me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And withered my half-uttered curse.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought that the mines of Australia
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I'd found in the meanest of men,
    </p>
    <p>
      And, smoking a fearful "regalia,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I sought thine iniquitous den.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      My walk, though a little unsteady,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was dignity tempered with grace;
    </p>
    <p>
      I playfully asked for the "ready,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And smiled in thy villainous face.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I brought thee my best Sunday beaver,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And gorgeous habiliments new;
    </p>
    <p>
      My watch&mdash;such a fine English lever!&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I left, unbe<i>liever</i>, with you.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I brought thee a coat&mdash;such a vestment!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Twas newly constructed by Poole;
    </p>
    <p>
      I've found it a losing in<i>vestment</i>&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! how could I be such a fool?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I told thee I hadn't a "stiver;"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I said I'd been "cutting it fat,"
    </p>
    <p>
      And coolly demanded a "fiver,"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      How thou must have chuckled at that!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thou wee can'st remember the morning
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Succeeding thy Sabbath, thou Jew!
    </p>
    <p>
      When cursing the year I was born in,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I felt the first turn of the screw.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And, hope from my bosom departing,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Like dew from the rays of the sun,
    </p>
    <p>
      My wits the sad news were imparting
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      How I'd been deluded and done.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And, borne on the telegraph wire,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A message came swiftly to me;
    </p>
    <p>
      It said that my grey-headed sire
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was pining his offspring to see.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      How face my infuriate father&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My property mortgaged and gone?
    </p>
    <p>
      For darkly his anger will gather;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I've hardly a rag to put on.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thine int'rest I cannot repay thee,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And gone are my coat and my hat;
    </p>
    <p>
      Thou hast all my duds&mdash;I could slay thee!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! how could I be such a flat?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I brought thee each gift of my mother,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Each gift of my generous aunt;
    </p>
    <p>
      The pistol belonged to my brother&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I'd like to restore it, but can't:
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For, uncle, thy fingers are sticky,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And, if the sad truth be confessed,
    </p>
    <p>
      Thy heart is as false as the "dicky,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Which covers my sorrowful breast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I've managed the needful to borrow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My watch and my ring to redeem;
    </p>
    <p>
      I hope that the sight of my sorrow
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      May cause thee a horrible dream.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/032m.jpg" alt="032m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/032.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      'Twere joy should I hear that the pistol
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Had burst in thy villainous hand&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      While smoking the "bird's eye" of Bristol,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My breast would dilate and expand.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I leave thee, for vain is resistance,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And little thou heedest my slang,
    </p>
    <p>
      But I'd barter ten years of existence
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For power to cause thee a pang.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      O! had I the wand of a wizard,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A Nemesis cruel I'd bribe
    </p>
    <p>
      To torture that Israelite's gizzard,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And caution the rest of his tribe.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      O! ye who are fond of excitement,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Ye students of Med'cine and Law,
    </p>
    <p>
      Be warned by this awful indictment,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And never give Moses your paw!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      From Moses who spoiled the Egyptian,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To Moses who buys your old clo',
    </p>
    <p>
      They're all of the self-same description&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They take, but they never let go.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Ye sons of the Man on the Barrel
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      (That's Bacchus)&mdash;ye "Monks of the Screw!"
    </p>
    <p>
      Don't mortgage your wearing apparel,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or have any truck with a Jew;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But take to cold water and virtue,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And never, whatever befalls,
    </p>
    <p>
      Let any false logic convert you
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To visit the "Three Golden Balls."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE ANCIENT SHEPHERD
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/034m.jpg" alt="034m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/034.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he shadows of the
      River Gums
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Were stretching long and black,
    </p>
    <p>
      As, far from Sydney's busy hum,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I trod the narrow track.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I watched the coming twilight spread,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And thought on many a plan;
    </p>
    <p>
      I saw an object on ahead&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It seemed to be a man.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      A venerable party sat
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Upon a fallen log;
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon him was a battered hat,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And near him was a dog.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The look that o'er his features hung
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was anything but sweet;
    </p>
    <p>
      His swag and "billy"a lay among
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The grass beneath his feet.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And white and withered was his hair,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And white and wan his face;
    </p>
    <p>
      I'd rather not have ipet the pair
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In such a lonely place.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought misfortune's heavy hand
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Had done what it could do;
    </p>
    <p>
      Despair seemed branded on the man,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And on the dingo too.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      A hungry look that dingo wore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He must have wanted prog&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      I think I never saw before
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      So lean and lank a dog.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I said&mdash;"Old man, I fear that you
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Are down upon your luck;
    </p>
    <p>
      You very much resemble, too,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A pig that has been stuck."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      His answer wasn't quite distinct&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      (I'm sure it wasn't true):
    </p>
    <p>
      He said I was (at least, I think,)
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "A"&mdash;something&mdash;"jackeroo!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He said he didn't want my chaff,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And (with an angry stamp)
    </p>
    <p>
      Declared I made too free by half
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "A-rushing of his camp."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I begged him to be calm, and not
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Apologise to me;
    </p>
    <p>
      He told me I might "go to pot"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      (Wherever that may be);
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And growled a muttered curse or two
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Expressive of his views
    </p>
    <p>
      Of men and things, and squatters too,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      New chums and jackeroos.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But economical he was
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      With his melodious voice;
    </p>
    <p>
      I think the reason was because
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His epithets were choice.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I said&mdash;"Old man, I fain would know
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The cause of thy distress;
    </p>
    <p>
      What sorrows cloud thine aged brow
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I cannot even guess.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "There's anguish on thy wrinkled face,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And passion in thine eye,
    </p>
    <p>
      Expressing anything but grace,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But why, old man, oh! why?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "A sympathising friend you'll find
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In me, old man, d'ye see?
    </p>
    <p>
      So if you've aught upon your mind
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Just pour it into me."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He gravely shook his grizzled head
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I rather touched him there&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And something indistinct he said
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      (I think he meant to swear).
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He made a gesture with his hand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He saw I meant him well;
    </p>
    <p>
      He said he was a shepherd, and
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "A takin' of a spell."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He said he was an ill-used bird,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And squatters they might be &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      (He used a very naughty word
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Commencing with a D.)
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I'd read of shepherds in the lore
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Of Thessaly and Greece,
    </p>
    <p>
      And had a china one at home
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Upon the mantelpiece.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I'd read about their loves and hates,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      As hot as Yankee stoves,
    </p>
    <p>
      And how they broke each other's pates
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In fair Arcadian groves;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But nothing in my ancient friend
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was like Arcadian types:
    </p>
    <p>
      No fleecy flocks had he to tend,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No crook or shepherds' pipes.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      No shepherdess was near at hand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And, if there were, I guessed
    </p>
    <p>
      She'd never suffer that old man
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To take her to his breast!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      No raven locks had he to fall,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And didn't seem to me
    </p>
    <p>
      To be the sort of thing at all
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A shepherd ought to be.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought of all the history.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I'd studied when a boy&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Of Paris and Ænone, and
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The siege of ancient Troy.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought, could Helen contemplate
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      This party on the log,
    </p>
    <p>
      She would the race of shepherds' hate
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Like Brahmins hate a dog.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      It seemed a very certain thing
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That, since the world began,
    </p>
    <p>
      No shepherd ever was like him,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      From Paris down to Pan.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I said&mdash;"Old man, you've settled now
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Another dream of youth;
    </p>
    <p>
      I always understood, I vow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Mythology was truth
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Until I saw thy bandy legs
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And sorrow-laden brow,
    </p>
    <p>
      But, sure as ever eggs is eggs,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I cannot think so now.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "For, an a shepherd thou should'st be,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Then very sure am I
    </p>
    <p>
      The man who wrote mythology
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was guilty of a lie.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "But never mind, old man," I said,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "To sorrow we are born,
    </p>
    <p>
      So tell us why thine aged head
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Is bended and forlorn?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      With face as hard as Silas Wegg's
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He said, "Young man, here goes."
    </p>
    <p>
      He lit his pipe, and crossed his legs,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And told me all his woes.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He said he'd just been "lammin'-down"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A flock of maiden-ewes,
    </p>
    <p>
      And then he'd had a trip to town
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To gather up the news;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But while in Bathurst's busy streets
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He got upon the spree,
    </p>
    <p>
      And publicans was awful cheats
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For soon "lamm'd down" was he.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He said he'd "busted up his cheque"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      (What's that, I'd like to know?)
    </p>
    <p>
      And now his happiness was wrecked,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To work he'd got to go.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He'd known the time, not long ago,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      When half the year he'd spend
    </p>
    <p>
      In idleness, and comfort too,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A-camping in a "bend."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      No need to tread the weary track,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or work his strength away;
    </p>
    <p>
      He lay extended on his back
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Each happy summer day.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      When sun-set comes and day-light flags,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And dusky looms the scrub,
    </p>
    <p>
      He'd bundle up his ration-bags
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And toddle for his grub,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And to some station-store he'd go
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And get the traveller's dower&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "A pint o' dust"&mdash;that was his low
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Expression meaning flour;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But now he couldn't cadge about,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For squatters wasn't game
    </p>
    <p>
      To give their tea and sugar out
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To every tramp that came.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The country's strength, he thought, was gone,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or going very fast,
    </p>
    <p>
      And feeding tramps now ranked among
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The glories of the past.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He'd seen the "Yanko" in its pride,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      When every night a host
    </p>
    <p>
      Of hungry tramps at supper tried
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For who could eat the most.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      A squatter then had feelin's strong
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And tender in his breast,
    </p>
    <p>
      And if a trav'ller came along
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He'd ask him in to rest.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "But squatters now!"&mdash;&mdash;he stamped the soil,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And muttered in his beard,
    </p>
    <p>
      He wished they'd got a whopping boil
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For every sheep they sheared!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      His language got so very bad&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It couldn't well be worse,
    </p>
    <p>
      For every second word he had
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Now seemed to be a curse.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And shaking was his withered hand
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      With passion, not with age&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      I never thought so old a man
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Could get in such a rage.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      His eyes seemed starting from his head,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They glared in such a way;
    </p>
    <p>
      And half the wicked words he said
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I shouldn't like to say;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But from his language I inferred
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      There wasn't one in three,
    </p>
    <p>
      Of squatters worth that little word
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Commencing with a "D."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Alas! for my poetic lore,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I fear it was astray,
    </p>
    <p>
      It never said that shepherds swore,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or talked in such a way.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The knotted cordage of his brow
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was tightened in a frown&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      He seemed the sort of party, now,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To burn a wool-shed down.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He told me, further, and his voice
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Grew very plaintive here,
    </p>
    <p>
      That now he'd got to make the choice
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And <i>work</i>, or give up beer!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      From heavy toil he'd always found
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Twas healthiest to keep,
    </p>
    <p>
      And mostly stuck to cadgin' round,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And lookin' after sheep.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But shepherdin' was nearly "cooked"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I think he meant to say
    </p>
    <p>
      That shepherds' prospects didn't look
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In quite a hopeful way.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      A new career he must begin,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      (And fresh it roused his ire)
    </p>
    <p>
      For squatters they was fencin' in
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      With that infernal wire;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And sheep was paddocked everywhere&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Twas like them squatters' cheek!&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And shepherds now, for all they'd care,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Might go to Cooper's Creek.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He said he couldn't use an axe,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And wouldn't if he could;
    </p>
    <p>
      He'd see 'em blistered on their backs
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Fore he'd go choppin' wood;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      That nappin' stones, or shovellin',
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Warn't good enough for he,
    </p>
    <p>
      And work it was a cussed thing
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      As didn't ought to be.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He'd known the Lachlan, man and boy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For close on forty year,
    </p>
    <p>
      But now they'd pisoned every joy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He thought it time to clear.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      They gave him sorrow's bitter cup,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And filled his heart with woe,
    </p>
    <p>
      And now at last his back was up,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He felt he ought to go.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He'd heard of regions far away
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Across the barren plains,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where shepherds might be blythe and gay
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And bust the squatters' chains.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      To reach that land he meant to try,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He didn't care a cuss,
    </p>
    <p>
      If 'twasn't any better, why,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It couldn't be much wuss.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Amongst the blacks, though old and grey,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Existence he'd begin,
    </p>
    <p>
      And give his ancient hand away
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In marriage to a "gin."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/047m.jpg" alt="047m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/047.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      He really was so old and grim,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The thought was in my mind,
    </p>
    <p>
      That any gin to marry him
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Would have to be stone blind.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twould make an undertaker smile:
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      What tickled me was this,
    </p>
    <p>
      The thought of such an ancient file
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Indulging in a kiss!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And, if it's true, as Shakespeare said,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That equal justice whirls,
    </p>
    <p>
      He ought to think of Nick instead
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Of thinking of the girls.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then drooped his grim and aged head,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And closed that glaring eye,
    </p>
    <p>
      And not another word he said
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      .Except a grunt or sigh.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      More lean he looks and still more lank
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Such changes o'er him pass,
    </p>
    <p>
      And down his ancient body sank
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In slumber on the grass.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I thought, old chap, you're wearing out,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And not the sort of coon
    </p>
    <p>
      To lead a blushing bride about,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or spend a honeymoon;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Or if, indeed, there were a bride
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For such a withered stick,
    </p>
    <p>
      With such a tough and wrinkled hide,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That bride should be old Nick.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      As streaks of faintish light began
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To mark the coming day,
    </p>
    <p>
      I left that grim and aged man
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And slowly stole away.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And when the winter nights are rough,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And shrieking is the wind,
    </p>
    <p>
      Or when I've eaten too much duff
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And dreams afflict my mind,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I see that lean and withered hand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And, 'mid the gloom of night,
    </p>
    <p>
      I see the face of that old man,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And horrid is the sight:
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/050m.jpg" alt="050m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/050.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      While on my head in agony
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Up rises every hair,
    </p>
    <p>
      I see again his glaring eye&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In fancy hear him swear.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      At breakfast time, when I come down
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To take that pleasant meal,
    </p>
    <p>
      With pallid face, and haggard frown,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Into my place I steal;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And when they say I'm far from bright,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The truth I dare not tell:
    </p>
    <p>
      I say I've passed a sleepless night,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And don't feel very well.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/052m.jpg" alt="052m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/052.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      WHERE IS FREEDOM?
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>h! Mother, say,
      for I long to know,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where doth the tree of Freedom grow,
    </p>
    <p>
      And strike its roots in the heart of man
    </p>
    <p>
      As deep and far as the famed banyan?
    </p>
    <p>
      Is it 'mid those groups in the Southern Seas,
    </p>
    <p>
      In the Coral Isles, or the far Fijis,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the restless billows seeth and toss
    </p>
    <p>
      'Neath the gleaming light of the Southern Cross?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then tell me, mother, can it be where
    </p>
    <p>
      The cry of "Liberty" rends the air?
    </p>
    <p>
      Where grow the maize and the maple tree,
    </p>
    <p>
      In the fertile "bottoms" of Tennessee?
    </p>
    <p>
      Or is it up where the north winds roar,
    </p>
    <p>
      Away by the fair Canadian shore,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the Indians shriek with insane halloos&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      As drunk as owls in their bark canoes?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      Or is it back in the Western States,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where Colt's revolver rules the fates,
    </p>
    <p>
      And Judges lounge in a liquor shop
    </p>
    <p>
      While Dean and Adams's pistols pop?
    </p>
    <p>
      Where Justice is but a shrivelled ghost
    </p>
    <p>
      As deaf and blind as a stockyard post,
    </p>
    <p>
      And License sits upon Freedom's chair&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Oh, say, dear mother, can it be there?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Is it on the banks of the wild Paroo,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the emu stalks, and the kangaroo
    </p>
    <p>
      Bounds o'er the sand-hills free and light,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the dingo howls through the sultry night;
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the native gathers the nardoo-seed
    </p>
    <p>
      For his frugal meal; and the centipede&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      While the worn-out traveller lies inert,
    </p>
    <p>
      Invades the folds of his flannel shirt?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Is it where yon death-like stillness reigns
    </p>
    <p>
      O'er the vast expanse of the salt-bush plains,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the shepherd leaveth his Leicester ewes
    </p>
    <p>
      For the firm embrace of his noon-tide snooze,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the most enchanting visions come
    </p>
    <p>
      To his thirsty spirit of Queensland rum,
    </p>
    <p>
      While the sun rays strike through his garments scant&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Is it there, dear mother, this wond'rous plant?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Or Southward, down where our brethren hold
    </p>
    <p>
      Those keys of power, rich mines of gold&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      That land of rumour and vague reports,
    </p>
    <p>
      Alluvial diggings, and reefs of quartz&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Where brokers give you the straightest "tip,"
    </p>
    <p>
      And let in in the way of "scrip;"
    </p>
    <p>
      Where all men vapour, and vaunt, and boast,
    </p>
    <p>
      And manhood suffrage rules the roast?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Is it where the blasts of the simoom fan,
    </p>
    <p>
      The blazing valleys of Hindustan;
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the Dervish howls, and their dupes are fleeced
    </p>
    <p>
      By the swarth Parsee, and the Brahmin priest;
    </p>
    <p>
      Where men believe in their toddy-bowls,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the transmigration of human souls,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the monkeys battle with countless fleas
    </p>
    <p>
      On the twisted boughs of the tamarind trees?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/056m.jpg" alt="056m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/056.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Or is it more to the northward, more
    </p>
    <p>
      Toward the ice-bound rivers of Labrador,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the glittering curtain of gleaming snow
    </p>
    <p>
      Enshrouds the home of the Esquimaux;
    </p>
    <p>
      Or further still to the north, away
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the bones of the Artic heroes lay
    </p>
    <p>
      Long, long on the icy surface bare,
    </p>
    <p>
      To bleach and dry in the frosty air?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then is it, mother, among the trees
    </p>
    <p>
      That shade the paths in the Tuilleries,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the students walk with the pale grisettes,
    </p>
    <p>
      And scent the air with their cigarettes?
    </p>
    <p>
      Or doth it bloom in that atmosphere
    </p>
    <p>
      Of mild tobacco and lager beer,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where gutteral curses mingle too
    </p>
    <p>
      With the croupiers patter of "<i>faites votre jeu?</i>"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Not there&mdash;not there, my child."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Boy, 'tis a plant that loves to blow
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the fading rays of the sunset go;
    </p>
    <p>
      Up where the sun-light never sets,
    </p>
    <p>
      And angels tootle their flageolets;
    </p>
    <p>
      Up through the fleecy clouds, and far
    </p>
    <p>
      Beyond the track of the farthest star,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the silvery echoes catch no tone
    </p>
    <p>
      Of a simmering sinner's stifling groan:
    </p>
    <p>
      'Tis there&mdash;'tis there, my child!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/058m.jpg" alt="058m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/058.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/059m.jpg" alt="059m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/059.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Countless sheep and countless cattle
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      O'er his vast enclosures roam;
    </p>
    <p>
      But you heard no children prattle
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Round that squatter's hearth and home.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Older grew that squatter, older,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Solitary and alone,
    </p>
    <p>
      And they said his heart was colder
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Than a granite pavin'-stone.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Other squatters livin handy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Wot had daughters in their prime.
    </p>
    <p>
      For that squatter "shouted" brandy
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In the Township many a time;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And those gals kept introdoocin'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In their toilets every art
    </p>
    <p>
      With the object of sedoocin'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That old sinner's stony heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus they often made exposures
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of their ankles, I'll be bound,
    </p>
    <p>
      When they, in his vast enclosures,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Met that squatter ridin' round.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Their advances he rejected,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Scornin' both their hands and hearts,
    </p>
    <p>
      'Till one day a cove selected
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Forty acres in those parts.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And that stalwart free-selector
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Had the handsomest of gals;
    </p>
    <p>
      Conduct couldn't be correcter
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Than his youngest daughter Sal's.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Prettily her head she tosses&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Loves a thing she don't regard;
    </p>
    <p>
      Rides the most owdacious hosses
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Wot was ever in a yard.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      She was lithe and she was limber&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Farmers daughter every inch&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Not averse to sawin' timber
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With her father at a pinch.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      In remotest dells and dingles,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where most gals would be afraid,
    </p>
    <p>
      There she went a-splittin shingles,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Pretty tidy work she made.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/062m.jpg" alt="062m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/062.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      And that free selector's daughter,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Driving of her father's cart,
    </p>
    <p>
      Made the very wildest slaughter
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In that wealthy squatter's heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He proposed, and wasn't blighted,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Took her to his residence,
    </p>
    <p>
      With his bride he was delighted
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For she saved him much expense.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Older grew that aged squatter,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      White and grizzly grew his pate,
    </p>
    <p>
      'Till his weak rheumatic trotters
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Couldn't bear their owner's weight.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then he grew more helpless, 'till he
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Couldn't wash and couldn't shave,
    </p>
    <p>
      And one evening cold and chilly
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He was carried to his grave.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then that free selector's daughter
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Came right slap "out of her shell;"
    </p>
    <p>
      Calm and grave as folks had thought her,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      She becomes a howling swell.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      To the neighb'ring township drove she
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In her chariot and pair,
    </p>
    <p>
      Splendid dreams and visions wove she
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      While she braided up her hair.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      She peruses Sydney papers,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Sees a paragraph which tells
    </p>
    <p>
      Her benighted soul the capers
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Cut down there by nobs and swells;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then she couldn't stop contented
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In a region such as this,
    </p>
    <p>
      While the atmosphere she scented
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of the great metropolis.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Her intention she imparted
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To the neighbours round about;
    </p>
    <p>
      Packed her duds, farewell'd, and started,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And for Sydney she set out.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Now her pantin' bosom hankers
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Spicily her form to deck,
    </p>
    <p>
      So she sought her husband's bankers
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And she drew a heavy cheque.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      She, of course, in dress a part spent,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Satins, sables, silk and grebe,
    </p>
    <p>
      And she took some swell apartments
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Situated near the Glebe.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      With the very highest classes
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In her heart she longed to jine&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Her opinion placed the masses
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lower in the scale than swine.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But she found it wasn't easy
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Climbin' up ambition's slope;
    </p>
    <p>
      Slippy was the road, and greasy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To the summit of her hope.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      If into a "set" she wriggled,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      She'd capsize some social rule,
    </p>
    <p>
      Then those parties mostly giggled,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Loadin' her with ridicule.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Many an awkward solecism&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Many a breach of etiquette,
    </p>
    <p>
      (Though she knew her catechism)
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Often made her eyelids wet.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Her plebeian early trainin'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Was a precious pull-back then,
    </p>
    <p>
      Which prevented her from gainin'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Footin' with the "upper ten."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Strugglin' after social fame was
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Simply killin' her out-right,
    </p>
    <p>
      So she settled that the game was
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Hardly worth the candle-light.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Things got worse and things got worser,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Till she had a vision strange,
    </p>
    <p>
      The forerunner and precurser
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of a most decided change.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      In a dream she saw the station
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where her father now was boss,
    </p>
    <p>
      And his usual occupation
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Was to ride a spavined hoss.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Round inspectin' every shepherd
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With his penetratin' sight,
    </p>
    <p>
      And those underlings got peppered
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      If he found things wasn't right.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      When she saw her grey-haired sire
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Knockin' round" among the sheep,
    </p>
    <p>
      For her home a strong desire
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Made her yell out in her sleep.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then she saw herself in fancy
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In her strange fantastic dream,
    </p>
    <p>
      With her elder sister Nancy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Yokin up the bullock team.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Up out of her sleep she started,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And the tears came to her eyes;
    </p>
    <p>
      She was almost broken-hearted,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To her waitin' maid's surprise.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      She was sad and penitential,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Like the Prodigal of old,
    </p>
    <p>
      So she got a piece of pencil
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And her state of mind she told
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      To her grey and aged father
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In that far outlandish place;
    </p>
    <p>
      And she told him that she'd rather
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Like to see his wrinkled face.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then that quondam free-selector
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Shed the biggest tears of joy;
    </p>
    <p>
      When he knew he might expect her
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His was bliss without alloy.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Home came Sarah, just as one fine
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Day in May was near its close,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the fadin' rays of sunshine
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Glinted oil her father's nose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      She beheld it glowing brightly;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Filial yearning was intense;
    </p>
    <p>
      So she made a rush and lightly
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Cleared the four-foot paddock fence.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/068m.jpg" alt="068m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/068.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Hugged he her in fond embraces;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Kissed she him with many a kiss;
    </p>
    <p>
      And she busted her stay-laces
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In an ecstasy of bliss.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then she wept with sorrow, thinkin',
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From the colour of his face,
    </p>
    <p>
      That her parent had been drinkin',
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Which was probably the case.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      But he, when he found his coat all
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Wet with many a filial tear,
    </p>
    <p>
      Took a solemn pledge tee-total
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To abstain from rum and beer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then she went and sought her sisters,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Judy, Nancy, and the rest;
    </p>
    <p>
      On their faces she raised blisters
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With the kisses she impressed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And she once more <i>con amore</i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Cottoned " to the calves and sheep,
    </p>
    <p>
      Likewise for her parent hoary
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      She professed affection deep.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Lavished on him fond caresses,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Stuck to him like cobbler's-wax,
    </p>
    <p>
      Cut up all her stylish dresses
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Into garments for the blacks.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      All her talents were befitted
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To a rough-and-tumble life,
    </p>
    <p>
      And from sheep to sheep she flitted
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      When the "scab" and "fluke" were rife.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Sarah's heart was soft and tender,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Her repentance was complete,
    </p>
    <p>
      Never sighed she more for splendour,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For the "Block" or George's-street.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Many a "back-block" lady-killer,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Many a wealthy squatter's son,
    </p>
    <p>
      Wanted her to "douse the wilier,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But she wasn't to be won.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For that free-selector's daughter
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Said, when settled in her home,
    </p>
    <p>
      She'd be (somethinged) if they caught Her
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Venturin' again to roam.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/071m.jpg" alt="071m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/071.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE CATTLE MUSTER.
    </h2>
    <h3>
      THE NIGHT CAMP.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he song goes
      round, we yarn and chaff,
    </p>
    <p>
      And cheerily the bushman's laugh
    </p>
    <p>
      Rolls through the forest glade.
    </p>
    <p>
      The hobbled horses feed around,
    </p>
    <p>
      We hear the horse-bell's tinkling sound;
    </p>
    <p>
      The sand beneath their feet is ground,
    </p>
    <p>
      As in the creek they wade.
    </p>
    <p>
      We hear them crunch the juicy grass&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      The water gleams like polished glass,
    </p>
    <p>
      Beneath the moon's bright ray.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mosquitos form in solid cloud&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      They sting and sing, both sharp and loud;
    </p>
    <p>
      Around the prostrate forms they crowd,
    </p>
    <p>
      And keep repose at bay.
    </p>
    <p>
      We watch the stars shine over head,
    </p>
    <p>
      And lounge upon the bushman's bed&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      A blanket on the ground.
    </p>
    <p>
      Each feels himself Dame Nature's guest,
    </p>
    <p>
      Our heads upon our saddles rest;
    </p>
    <p>
      At length, with weariness oppressed,
    </p>
    <p>
      We sink in sleep profound.
    </p>
    <p>
      We sleep as only weary ones
    </p>
    <p>
      Among hard-handed labour's sons,
    </p>
    <p>
      With minds at rest from debts and duns&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      As only these can do&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Until the daylight's first faint streak
    </p>
    <p>
      Has lightly touched the distant peak,
    </p>
    <p>
      And o'er us where the branches creak,
    </p>
    <p>
      Is slowly creeping through.
    </p>
    <p>
      Reluctantly with sleep we strive,
    </p>
    <p>
      And hear the call to "look alive"!
    </p>
    <p>
      We soon desert the camp.
    </p>
    <p>
      The horses caught and blankets rolled,
    </p>
    <p>
      The "Super's" brief instructions told&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      We mount, and scarce our steeds can hold,
    </p>
    <p>
      Impatiently they stamp.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      THE MUSTER.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>e ford the creek
      and need no bridge,
    </p>
    <p>
      And climb a steep and scrubby ridge,
    </p>
    <p>
      And then, boys, there's a sight!&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      The "gully," by the sun unkist,
    </p>
    <p>
      Beneath lies rolled in gleaming mist
    </p>
    <p>
      And flowing waves of light;
    </p>
    <p>
      As yet untouched by noon-tide heat,
    </p>
    <p>
      Like rocks where broken waters meet,
    </p>
    <p>
      'Tis wrapped as by a winding sheet
    </p>
    <p>
      In billows fleecy white.
    </p>
    <p>
      Onward, and soon the sun's fierce rays
    </p>
    <p>
      Will dissipate the morning haze&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      He soars in fiery pomp.
    </p>
    <p>
      We skirt the shallow "clay-pan's" marge,
    </p>
    <p>
      Force "lignum" thickets, dense and large,
    </p>
    <p>
      And often-times we briskly charge
    </p>
    <p>
      Some dark "Yapunya-swamp."
    </p>
    <p>
      We gather first a quiet lot,
    </p>
    <p>
      Then off again with hurried trot
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon our toilsome tramp.
    </p>
    <p>
      Each gully, range, and hill we beat,
    </p>
    <p>
      Charge every horned thing we meet&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      With ringing shout and gallop fleet&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And "run" then "on the camp."
    </p>
    <p>
      The shaggy herd increases fast;
    </p>
    <p>
      We know by lengthened shadows cast
    </p>
    <p>
      Time too has galloped hard;
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twill try our powers, howe'er we strive,
    </p>
    <p>
      This most rebellious mob to drive,
    </p>
    <p>
      E're night-fall, to the yard.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      THE RUN HOME.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he order comes,&mdash;"Each
      to his place!"
    </p>
    <p>
      And homeward now at length we face.
    </p>
    <p>
      The frightened monsters roar;
    </p>
    <p>
      Some tear the unresisting ground,
    </p>
    <p>
      And some with frantic rush and bound
    </p>
    <p>
      (Half maddened by the stockwhip's sound)
    </p>
    <p>
      Each other fiercely gore!
    </p>
    <p>
      We spread along the scattered line,
    </p>
    <p>
      Some on the "wings," and some behind,
    </p>
    <p>
      And steer them as we can.
    </p>
    <p>
      There's but one pass through yonder hill;
    </p>
    <p>
      To guide them there will need some skill,
    </p>
    <p>
      And try both horse and man.
    </p>
    <p>
      Some hidden object checks them there;
    </p>
    <p>
      The leaders snuff the wind, and glare,
    </p>
    <p>
      Then bellowing with their tails in air,
    </p>
    <p>
      Swerve madly to the right.
    </p>
    <p>
      A stockman hears our voices ring;
    </p>
    <p>
      With easy stretch and supple spring,
    </p>
    <p>
      His horse bears down along their wing,
    </p>
    <p>
      The living mass he wheels:
    </p>
    <p>
      Too close he presses; at the sight
    </p>
    <p>
      One "breaks" and bellows with affright;
    </p>
    <p>
      Dick swoops upon him, like a kite;
    </p>
    <p>
      The cutting thong he deals;
    </p>
    <p>
      It falls with heavy sounding thwack&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Such din those mountain gullies black
    </p>
    <p>
      Have scarce or never heard.
    </p>
    <p>
      He knows his work, that well-trained hack,
    </p>
    <p>
      Nor heeds the stockwhip's echoing crack,
    </p>
    <p>
      And sullenly the bull turns back,
    </p>
    <p>
      To join the hurrying herd.
    </p>
    <p>
      "Look out!" a warning voice has said,
    </p>
    <p>
      "There's 'Mulga,' boys, and right ahead!"
    </p>
    <p>
      And now begins the rub;
    </p>
    <p>
      From some their garments will be stripped,
    </p>
    <p>
      And saddle-flaps and "knee-pads" ripped,
    </p>
    <p>
      And horses' feet in holes be tripped,
    </p>
    <p>
      Before they clear the scrub.
    </p>
    <p>
      You, stockmen from the Murray's side,
    </p>
    <p>
      Who through the "Mallee" boldly ride,
    </p>
    <p>
      Beware the "mulga-stake!"
    </p>
    <p>
      'Tis strong and tough as bullock-hide,
    </p>
    <p>
      Nor will, like "mallee," turn aside;
    </p>
    <p>
      But, in its savage, sylvan pride,
    </p>
    <p>
      Will neither <i>bend</i> nor <i>break!</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      Once through the scrub, we don't care how
    </p>
    <p>
      Things go; we've got them steadied now
    </p>
    <p>
      And haven't lost a beast&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And, far as ranges human eye,
    </p>
    <p>
      The plains are level as a die&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Our toil has nearly ceased.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Sun goes down, the day-light fails,
    </p>
    <p>
      But now we near the Stockyard rails&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      We've one sharp struggle more.
    </p>
    <p>
      One half the mob have never been
    </p>
    <p>
      (Forced from those gullies cool and green)
    </p>
    <p>
      In "branding-yard" before!
    </p>
    <p>
      We jam them at the open space;
    </p>
    <p>
      They ring around, and fear to face
    </p>
    <p>
      The widely open gate.
    </p>
    <p>
      Whips crack, and voices shout in vain;
    </p>
    <p>
      The cattle "ring," and strive again
    </p>
    <p>
      To force a passage to the plain.
    </p>
    <p>
      Impatiently we wait,
    </p>
    <p>
      Till one old charger glares around,
    </p>
    <p>
      And snuffing cautiously the ground
    </p>
    <p>
      Stalks through between the posts.
    </p>
    <p>
      With lowered heads the others "bore"
    </p>
    <p>
      And jam, and squeeze, and blindly gore;
    </p>
    <p>
      And with a hollow muttered roar
    </p>
    <p>
      Pour in those horned hosts!
    </p>
    <p>
      Those posts are fourteen inches through&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      They creak, and groan, and tremble too,
    </p>
    <p>
      Before that pouring rush!
    </p>
    <p>
      They're in at last, the gates are shut;
    </p>
    <p>
      And falls o'er paddock, yard, and hut,
    </p>
    <p>
      A calm nocturnal hush.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0017" id="linkimage-0017"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/079m.jpg" alt="079m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/079.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      In youth he met with sad rebuffs,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Hard, hard was William's lot,
    </p>
    <p>
      And most unnecessary cuffs
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And kicks he often got.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      At length one night both dark and black
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A window he got through,
    </p>
    <p>
      And with fresh <i>weals</i> upon his back
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He joined a whaler's crew.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He learnt to "hand," and "reef," and steer,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And knew the compass pat;
    </p>
    <p>
      He learnt to honour and revere
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The boatswain and his "cat."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He went to every coral isle
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Down in the Southern seas,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where dark-eyed beauties beam and smile
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Beneath the bread-fruit trees.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      His foot was firm upon the deck
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As Norval's on his heath;
    </p>
    <p>
      He dared the tempest and the wreck
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For whale and walrus teeth.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He braved Pacific foam and spray,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For oil and bêche-le-mer,
    </p>
    <p>
      Till he grew ugly, old, and grey,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      An ancient mariner.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      His face got red, and blue, and pink
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With grog and weather stains;
    </p>
    <p>
      He looked much like the <i>missin</i> link
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      When in the <i>mizen</i> chains.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0018" id="linkimage-0018"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/081m.jpg" alt="081m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/081.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <h3>
      II.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ill Blubber's
      gone, and he'll be missed
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By all on British soil;
    </p>
    <p>
      Be aisy now and hold your <i>whist</i>,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He'll go no more for <i>Hoyle!</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      No more he'll see the billows curl
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In north Atlantic gales;
    </p>
    <p>
      No more the keen harpoon he'll hurl
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At spermaceti whales.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Ah! never more he'll heave the log&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A harsh decree was Fate's;
    </p>
    <p>
      He took an over-dose of grog
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      When up in <i>Be(e)hring</i> Straits.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Death blew a bitter blast and chill
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Which struck his sails aback,
    </p>
    <p>
      And round the corse of Workhouse Bill
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They wound a <i>Union</i> Jack.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      A "longing, lingering look" they cast,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Then sewed him in a bag,
    </p>
    <p>
      And half way up the lofty mast
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They hoist the drooping flag.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      His mess-mates crossways tossed the yards,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Askew they hung the sails,
    </p>
    <p>
      Eschewed tobacco, rum, and cards,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And filled the ship with wails
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The grief-struck skipper drank some grog,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of solace he had need,
    </p>
    <p>
      And made an entry in the log
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No livin' soul could read.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And then a ghastly laugh he laughed
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His spirits to exhalt,
    </p>
    <p>
      And then he called the boatswain aft
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And <i>mustered</i> every <i>salt</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The whalers gave one final howl,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And cursed their hard, hard lucks;
    </p>
    <p>
      They came, and though the wind was <i>foul,</i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They wore their whitest <i>ducks.</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0019" id="linkimage-0019"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/084m.jpg" alt="084m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/084.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      The captain&mdash;kindest, best of men&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Strove hard his breath to catch;
    </p>
    <p>
      (Crouched like an incubating hen,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon the after-<i>hatch</i>).
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He said as how the time was come
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To Bill to say good-bye;
    </p>
    <p>
      And tears of water and of rum,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Stood in each manly eye.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Said he, "My lads, dispel this gloom,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Bid grief and sorrow halt;
    </p>
    <p>
      "For if the sea must be his tomb,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "D'ye see it aint his <i>f(v)ault</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "' Tis true we'll never see his like
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "At 'cutting in' a whale&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      "At usin knife an' marlin-spike,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "But <i>blubber</i> won't <i>avail</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Soh! steady lads, belay all that!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "'Vast heaving sobs and sighs;
    </p>
    <p>
      "Don't never go to 'whip the cat'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "For William, bless his eyes!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "I knew him lads when first he shipped,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "And this is certain, that
    </p>
    <p>
      "Though William by the 'cat ' was whipped,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "He never '<i>whipped the cat!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The skipper read the service through,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And snivelled in his sleeve,
    </p>
    <p>
      While calm and still, old work'us Bill
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Awaits the final heave.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He had no spicy hearse and three,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No gay funereal car;
    </p>
    <p>
      But, at the word, souse in the sea
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They <i>pitch</i> that luckless <i>tar</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Short-handed then those whalemen toil
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon their oily cruise,
    </p>
    <p>
      And many and many a <i>cruse</i> of oil
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For want of Bill they lose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The mate and captain in despair
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His cruel fate deplore;
    </p>
    <p>
      His mess-mates swore they never were
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In such a <i>mess</i> before.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The crew, who had a bitter cup
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To drink with their salt-horse,
    </p>
    <p>
      When next they hauled the mainsel up,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Bewailed his <i>missin corse</i>. *
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">               * Mizen-course o' course.
</pre>
    <p>
      Alas! his corpse had downward sunk,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His soul hath upward sped,
    </p>
    <p>
      And Will hath left a sailor's 'bunk'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To share an oyster's bed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      We hope his resting place will suit&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      We trust he's happy now&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Laid where the pigs can never root,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lulled by the ocean's sough.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0020" id="linkimage-0020"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/087m.jpg" alt="087m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/087.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0021" id="linkimage-0021"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/088m.jpg" alt="088m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/088.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <i>This</i> Christmas-eve? This stifling night?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The leaves upon the trees?
    </p>
    <p>
      The temperature by Farenheit
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Some ninety odd degrees?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Ah me! my thoughts were off at score
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To Christmases I've passed,
    </p>
    <p>
      Before upon this Southern shore
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My weary lot was cast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      To Christmases of ice and snow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And stormy nights and dark;
    </p>
    <p>
      To holly-boughs and mistletoe,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And skating in the Park
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      To vast yule-logs and yellow fogs
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of the vanished days of yore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      To the keen white frost, and the home that's lost,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The home that's mine no more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twas passing nice through snow and ice
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To drive to distant "hops,"
    </p>
    <p>
      But here, alas! the only ice
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Is in the bars and shops!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I've Christmased since those palmy days
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In many a varied spot,
    </p>
    <p>
      And suffered many a weary phase
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Christmas cold and hot.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      When cherished hopes were stricken down-
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Hopes born but to be lost&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      And when the world's chill blighting frown
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Seemed colder than the frost.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      'Tis hard to watch&mdash;when from within
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The heart all hope has flown&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      The old year out, the new year in,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Unfriended and alone
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      When whispers seem to rise and tell
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of scenes you used to know&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      You almost hear the very bells
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      You heard so long ago.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I've Christmased in a leaky tub
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where briny billows roll,
    </p>
    <p>
      And Christmased in the Mulga scrub
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Beside a water-hole.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      With ague in my aching joints,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And in my quivering bones;
    </p>
    <p>
      My bed, the rough uneven points
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of sharp and jaggèd stones.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Where life a weary burden was
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With all the varied breeds
    </p>
    <p>
      Of creeping things with pointed stings,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And snakes, and centipedes.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twas not a happy Christmas that:
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      How can one happy be
    </p>
    <p>
      With bull-dog ants inside your hat,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And black ants in your tea?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Australian child, what cans't thou know
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Christmas in its prime?
    </p>
    <p>
      Not flower-wreathed, but wreathed in snow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As in yon northern clime.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thou hast not seen the vales and dells
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Arrayed in gleaming white,
    </p>
    <p>
      Nor heard the sledge's silver bells
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Go tinkling through the night.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For thee no glittering snow-storm whirls;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Thou hast instead of this
    </p>
    <p>
      Only the dust-storm's eddying swirls&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The hot-wind's scalding kiss!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      What can'st thou know of frozen lakes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or Hyde&mdash;that Park divine?
    </p>
    <p>
      For, though by no means lacking <i>snakes</i>,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Thou hast no "<i>Serpentine</i>."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Thou hast not panted, yearned to cut
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Strange figures out with skates,
    </p>
    <p>
      Nor practised in the water-butt,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Nor heard those dismal "waits."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For thee no "waits" lugubrious voice
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Breaks forth in plaintive wail;
    </p>
    <p>
      Rejoice, Australian child, rejoice!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That balances the scale.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I see in fancy once again
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The London streets at night&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Trafalgar square, St. Martin's Lane&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Each well remembered sight.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Past twelve! and Nature's winding-sheet
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Is over street and square,
    </p>
    <p>
      And silently now fall the feet,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of those who linger there.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I see a wretch with hunger bold
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      (An Ishmaelite 'mong men)
    </p>
    <p>
      Crawl from some hovel dark and cold&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Some foul polluted den&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      A wretch who never learnt to pray,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And wearily he drags
    </p>
    <p>
      His life along from day to day
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In wretchedness and rags.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I see a wandering carriage lamp
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Glide silently and slow;
    </p>
    <p>
      The night-policeman's heavy tramp
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Is muffled by the snow.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I hear the mournful chaunt ascend
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      ('Tis meaningless to you)
    </p>
    <p>
      "We're frozen out, hard-working men,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      We've got no work to do!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      All, all the many sounds and sights
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Come trooping through my brain
    </p>
    <p>
      Of London streets, and winter nights,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And pleasure mixed with pain.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Be happy you who have a home,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Be happy while you may,
    </p>
    <p>
      For sorrow's ever quick to come,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And slow to pass away.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Your churches and your dwellings deck
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With ferns and flowers fair;
    </p>
    <p>
      I would not breathe a word to check
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The mirth I cannot share.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For, though my barque's a shattered hull,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And I could be at best
    </p>
    <p>
      But like the famed Egyptian skull,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A mirth-destroying guest,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I would not play the cynic's part,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Nor at <i>thy</i> pleasure sneer&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      I wish thee, Reader, from my heart,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A happy, glad New year.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      ECHO VERSES.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>ome years ago I
      chanced upon a magazine article containing a dissertation upon a now
      almost obsolete kind of versification, much affected by Ben Jonson and
      some of the last century poets, in which the first two or three lines of
      each verse ask a question, and the echo of the concluding words gives an
      answer more or less appropriate. An amusing example was given in the
      article above mentioned, which was equally rough on the great violinist of
      the past and his audience, thus:
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "What are they who pay six guineas
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To hear a string of Paganini's?"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      (Echo) "<i>Pack 'o ninnies!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I read this and a few other examples, and was straightway stricken with a
      desire to emulate this eccentric and somewhat difficult species of
      versification, and now with considerable diffidence, and a choking prayer
      for mercy at the hands of the critic, I lay my attempt before the reader.
      The following echo-verses are not on any account whatever to be understood
      as reflecting on the present or any past Government of this Colony. They
      are merely to be taken as shadowing forth a state of things possible in
      the remote future.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      WHAT AN ECHO TOLD THE AUTHOR.
    </h2>
    <h3>
      Author, musing:
    </h3>
    <p class="indent5">
      Our land hath peace, prosperity, and rhino,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Legislators true, and staunch, and tried&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      What trait have they, that is not pure&mdash;divine oh?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      (Echo interposing) "<i>I know!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      What is it, if thus closely thou hast pried?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Pride!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      If thus into their hearts thou hast been prying,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Thy version of the matter prithee paint;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Tell us, I pray, on what are they relying?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Lying!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I thought their honour was without a taint&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Taint!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Have they forgotten all their former glories?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Their virtue&mdash;what hath chanced its growth to stunt?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! wherefore should they change their ancient mores?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>More ease!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      What weapon makes the sword of Justice blunt?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Blunt!</i>" * <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">               * Coin
</pre>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Thou would'st not speak thus, wert thou now before 'em:
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Why do I heed, why listen to thy tale?
    </p>
    <p>
      Can'st purchase, then, the honour of the Forum?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      <i>For Rum!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And what would blind Dame Justice with her scale?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Ale!"</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Beware! the fame of Senators thou'rt crushing!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Too flippantly thou givest each retort.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      What are they doing while for their shame I'm blushing?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Lushing!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And drinking?&mdash;pray continue thy report&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      <i>Port</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Curse on these seeds of death, and those who sow them
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But there's another thing I'd fain be told&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      What of the masses, the canaille below them?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>B-low them!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Thou flippant one! how is the mob consoled?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Sold!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Now, by stout Alexander's sword, or
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Rather by his Holiness the Pope!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By what means keep they matters in this order?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Sawder!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With what do they sustain the people's hope?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Soap!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Take they indeed no passing thought, no care or
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Heed of what for safety should be done?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      What brought about this modern Reign of Terror?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Error!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Is there no hope for thee, my land, mine own?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>None!"</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Base love of liquor, ease, and lucre, this it
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Is which coileth round her, link on link;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Dark is her hope, e'en as the grave we visit!
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Is it?</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Of what black illustration can I think?
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Ink!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Alas my country! shall I not undeceive her?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Shall I not strike one patriotic blow?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'd help her had I but the means, the lever&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Leave her!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      May we not hope? speak Echo, thou must know&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>No!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Then shall be heard&mdash;when, round us slowly creeping,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Shall come this adverse blast to fill our sails&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Instead of mirth, while hope aside 'tis sweeping&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Weeping!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Instead of songs of praise in New South Wales&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent20">
      "<i>Wails!</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0022" id="linkimage-0022"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/102m.jpg" alt="102m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/102.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE 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 <i>alba</i>trossity) which saddened the declining years of
      Coleridge's Ancient Mariner.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE SHEPHERD'S VENGEANCE,
    </h2>
    <h3>
      Fytte the First.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he squatter kings
      of New South Wales&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The squatter kings who reign
    </p>
    <p>
      O'er rocky hill, and scrubby ridge,
    </p>
    <p>
      O'er swamp, and salt-bush plain&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Fenced in their runs, and coves applied
    </p>
    <p>
      For shepherding in vain.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The squatters said that closed should be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To tramps each station-store;
    </p>
    <p>
      That parties on the "cadging suit"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Should ne'er have succour more;
    </p>
    <p>
      And when Bill the shepherd heard the same
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He bowed his neck and swore.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Now, though that ancient shepherd felt
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      So mad he couldn't speak,
    </p>
    <p>
      No sighs escape his breast, no tears
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From out his eyelids leak,
    </p>
    <p>
      But he swore upon the human race
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A black revenge to wreak.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He brooded long, and a fiendish light
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lit up the face of Bill;
    </p>
    <p>
      He saw the way to work on men
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A dark and grievous ill,
    </p>
    <p>
      And place them far beyond the aid
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of senna, salts, or pill.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He hied him to his lonely hut
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By a deep dark, lakelet's shore;
    </p>
    <p>
      He passed beneath its lowly roof&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He shut and locked the door;
    </p>
    <p>
      And he emptied out his flour bag
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon the hard clay floor.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Awhile he eyed the mighty mound
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With dark, malignant zeal,
    </p>
    <p>
      And then, a shovel having found,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Their fates," said he, "I'll seal";
    </p>
    <p>
      And he made a "damper" broad and round
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As a Roman chariot-wheel.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He soddened it with water drawn
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From out that black lagoon,
    </p>
    <p>
      And he smiled to think that those who ate
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A piece of it would soon
    </p>
    <p>
      Be where they'd neither see the light
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of sun, nor stars, nor moon.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For when that damper came to be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Dug from its glowing bed,
    </p>
    <p>
      Its fell specific gravity
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Was far o'er gold or lead,
    </p>
    <p>
      And a look of satisfaction o'er
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That shepherd's features spread.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      Fytte the Second.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he shepherd sat by
      the gloomy shore
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of the black and dark lagoon;
    </p>
    <p>
      His face was lit, and his elf-locks hoar
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By the rays of the rising moon.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0023" id="linkimage-0023"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/106m.jpg" alt="106m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/106.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      His hand was clenched, and his visage wore
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A deadly frown and black,
    </p>
    <p>
      And his eye-balls glare, for a stranger fair
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Is wending down the track.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The shepherd hath bidden the stranger halt
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With courtesy and zeal,
    </p>
    <p>
      And hath welcomed him to his low roof-tree,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And a share of his evening meal.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      As the fare he pressed on his hungry guest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And thought of its deadly weight,
    </p>
    <p>
      With savage glee he smiled for he
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Imagined his after fate.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The stranger hath eaten his fill I ween
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of that fell and gruesome cake,
    </p>
    <p>
      And hath hied him away in the moon-light's sheen
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For a stroll by the deep, dark lake;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For he thought he'd lave each stalwart limb
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In the wavelet's curling crest,
    </p>
    <p>
      And take a dive and a pleasant swim
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Ere he laid him down to rest.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The coat that covered his ample chest
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On the lakelet's marge he threw;
    </p>
    <p>
      His hat, his boots, and his flannel-vest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And his moleskin trowsers too.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He hummed a tune, and he paused awhile
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To hear the night-owl sing;
    </p>
    <p>
      His ears were cocked, and his palms were locked,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Prepared for the final spring.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      An unsuspecting look he cast
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At the objects on the shore&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      A splash! a thud! and beneath the flood
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He sank to rise no more!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The shepherd saw from his lonely hut
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The dread catastrophé;
    </p>
    <p>
      A notch on a withered stick he cut&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "That's number one," said he,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "But, if I live 'till to-morrow's sun
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Shall gild the blue-gum tree,
    </p>
    <p>
      "With more, I'll stake my soul, that cake
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Of mine will disagree."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then down he sat by his lonely hut
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That stood by the lonely track,
    </p>
    <p>
      To the lakelet nigh, and a horse came by
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With a horse-man on his back.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And lean and lank was the traveller's frame
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That sat on that horse's crup:
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twas long I ween since the wight had seen
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The ghost of a bite or sup.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Oh! give me food!" to the shepherd old
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With plaintive cry he cried;
    </p>
    <p>
      A mildewed crust or a pint o'dust *
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or a mutton cutlet fried.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "In sooth in evil case am I,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Fatigue and hunger too
    </p>
    <p>
      Have played the deuce with my gastric juice,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      It's 'got no work to do.'
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "I've come o'er ridges of burning sand
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That gasp for the cooling rain,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the orb of day with his blinding ray
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Glares down on the salt-bush plain
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
               * Flour.
</pre>
    <p>
      "O'er steaming valley, lagoon, and marsh
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where the Sun strikes down 'till, phew!
    </p>
    <p>
      The very eels in the water feels
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A foretaste of a stew.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "I hungered long 'till my wasting form
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Was a hideous sight to view;
    </p>
    <p>
      But fit on a settler's fence to sit
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To scare the cockatoo.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "My hair grew rank, and my eyeballs sank
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Till&mdash;wasted, withered, and thin&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      The ends and points of my jarring joints
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Stuck out through my parched up skin.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Shrunk limb and thew, 'till at length I grew
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As thin as a gum-tree rail;
    </p>
    <p>
      At the horrid sight of my hideous plight
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Each settler's face turned pale:
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "And as I travelled the mulga scrubs,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And forced a passage through
    </p>
    <p>
      I scared the soul of the native black
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A gathering his 'nardoo.'
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "On snake or lizard I'd fain have fed,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But piteous was my plight,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the whole of the brute creation fled
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In horror at the sight.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      "Scrub turkeys, emus, I appall;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Their eggs I longed to poach,
    </p>
    <p>
      But they <i>collared their eggs, their nests and all, </i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And fled at my approach!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0024" id="linkimage-0024"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/111m.jpg" alt="111m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/111.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      "And the possums 'streaked' it up the trees,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And frightened the young gallârs,
    </p>
    <p>
      And all the hairs on the native-bears
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Stood stiff as iron bars!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The shepherd came from his low roof-tree
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And gazed at the shrunken wight;
    </p>
    <p>
      He gave him welcome courteously,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And jested at his plight.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      He led the traveller 'neath his roof,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And gazed in his wan, worn face,
    </p>
    <p>
      Where want was writ, and he bid him sit
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On an empty 'three-star' case.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And a smile of evil import played
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On the face of ancient Bill
    </p>
    <p>
      As some of the damper down he laid,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And bid him take his fill.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      With mute thanksgiving in his breast
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The food the stranger tore;
    </p>
    <p>
      Piece after piece he closely pressed
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Down on the piece before.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And then&mdash;his heart fresh buoyed with hope&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Essayed to mount his steed,
    </p>
    <p>
      But the horse shut flat as an opera-hat
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With the weight of his master's feed;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And horse and man sunk through the sod
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Some sixty feet or less!
    </p>
    <p>
      No crust, I swear, of the Earth could bear
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The weight of the gruesome mess!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0025" id="linkimage-0025"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/113m.jpg" alt="113m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/113.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Then the shepherd grinned with a grizzly grin
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As he notched his stick again;
    </p>
    <p>
      The night passed by and the sun rose high
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And glared on the salt-bush plain.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Two "gins" set forth in a bark canoe
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To traverse the gloomy lake,
    </p>
    <p>
      And he bid them take enough for two,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For lunch, of the deadly cake.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0026" id="linkimage-0026"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/114m.jpg" alt="114m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/114.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Enough for two! 'twas enough I ween
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To settle the hash of four,
    </p>
    <p>
      For the barque o'er-flowed with the crushing load&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They sank to rise no more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And ever his fiendish lust for blood&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His thirst for vengeance grows;
    </p>
    <p>
      In sport he threw a crumb or two
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To the hawks and carrion crows;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And as they helpless, fluttering lay,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His eldrich laughter rings;
    </p>
    <p>
      One crumb to bear through the lambent air
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Was past the power of wings.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Beside his door he sat 'till noon
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      When a bullock-team came by;
    </p>
    <p>
      The echoes 'round with the whips resound,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And the drivers' cheery cry.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Upon the dray a piece he threw
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No bigger than your hand,
    </p>
    <p>
      Of the cursed thing, 'twas enough to bring
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The bullocks to a stand.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And, though they bend their sinewy necks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Till red with their crimson gore,
    </p>
    <p>
      And fiercely strain yoke, pole, and chain
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With savage, muttering roar,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The wheels sank down to the axle-tree&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Through the hard baked clay they tore,
    </p>
    <p>
      And a single jot from out that spot
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They shifted never more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Then the shepherd called to the drivers, "Ho!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My frugal meal partake."
    </p>
    <p>
      And, though they ate but a crumb or two
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of the fell, unholy cake,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Down, down they sank on the scorching track,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Immovable and prone,
    </p>
    <p>
      And <i>steel blue ants crawled up their pants </i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And ate them to the bone!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      For days by his lonely hut sat Bill,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The hut to the lakelet nigh,
    </p>
    <p>
      And he wrought his dark revengeful will
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On each traveller that came by.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And he eats nor drinks meat, bread, nor gruel,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Nor washes, nor combs, nor shaves,
    </p>
    <p>
      But he yelled, and he danced a wild pas seul
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      O'er each of his victims' graves.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0027" id="linkimage-0027"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/117m.jpg" alt="117m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/117.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Three weeks passed by, but his end was nigh&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His day was near its close,
    </p>
    <p>
      For rumour whispered his horrid deeds,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And in arms the settlers rose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      They came, hinds, shepherds, and shearers too,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And squatters of high degree;
    </p>
    <p>
      His hands they tied, and his case they tried
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Neath the shade of a blue gum tree.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      They sentence passed, and they gripped him fast,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Though to tear their flesh he tried;
    </p>
    <p>
      His teeth he ground, but his limbs they bound
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With thongs of a wild bull's hide.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      They laid him down on a "bull-dog's" nest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For the bull-dog ants to sting;
    </p>
    <p>
      On his withered chest they pile the rest
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of the damnèd cursèd thing.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      They gather round and they stir the ground
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Till the insects swarm again,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the echoes wake by the gloomy lake
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With his cry of rage and pain.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      O'er his writhing form the insects swarm&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      O'er arm, o'er foot, and leg;
    </p>
    <p>
      The damper pressed on his heaving chest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And he couldn't move a peg.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      'Till eve he lay in the scorching heat,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And the rays of the blinding sun,
    </p>
    <p>
      Then the black-ants came and they soon complete
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      What the bull-dogs have begun.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0028" id="linkimage-0028"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/119m.jpg" alt="119m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/119.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      'Tis o'er at last, and his spirit passed
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With a yell of fiendish hate,
    </p>
    <p>
      And down by the shore of that black lagoon,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where his victims met their fate&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Where the "bunyip" glides, and the inky tides
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lip, lap on the gloomy shore,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the loathsome snake of the swamp abides,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He wanders ever more.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And when the shadows of darkness fall
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      (As hinds and stock-men tell)
    </p>
    <p>
      The plains around with his howls resound,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And his fierce, blood-curdling yell.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The kangaroos come forth at night
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To feed o'er his lonely grave,
    </p>
    <p>
      And above his bones with disma' tones
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The dingos shriek and rave.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      And when drovers camp with a wild-mob there
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They shiver with affright,
    </p>
    <p>
      And quake with dread if they hear his tread
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In the gloom of the ebon night!
    </p>

<p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="social" id="social"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>


    <h2>
      SOCIAL EVILS.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> 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&mdash;oh! dear no&mdash;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".
    </p>
    <p>
      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,"&mdash;wherever that mysterious
      fissure may be&mdash;but a considerable distance beyond it.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <p>
      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 <i>do</i> feel equal to
      crushing the boy who sells oranges and lemonade in the pit&mdash;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?"&mdash;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&mdash;on whose head be shame!
      and on whose false front rest eternal obliquy&mdash;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.
    </p>
    <h3>
      JL.
    </h3>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      MORAL PHILOSOPHY FOR LITTLE FOLKS.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">L</span>ittle grains of
      rhubarb,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Spatula'd with skill,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the mighty bolus
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And the little pill.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little pence and half-pence,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Hoarded up by stealth,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the mighty total
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Of the miser's wealth
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little trips to Randwick,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Taking six to three,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the out-at-elbows
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Seedy swells we see.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little sprees on oysters,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Bottled stout and ale,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lead but to the cloisters
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Of the gloomy gaol.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little tracts and tractlets,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Scattered here and there,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lead the sinner's footsteps
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      To the house of prayer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little bits of paper,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Headed I.O.U.,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Ever draw the Christian
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Closer to the Jew.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little chords and octaves,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Little flats and sharps,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the tunes the angels
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Play on golden harps.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little bouts with broom-sticks,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Carving forks and knives,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the stirring drama
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Of our married lives.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little flakes of soap-suds,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Glenfield starch, and blue,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the saint's white shirt-fronts
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And the sinner's too.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little tiny insects,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Smaller than a flea,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Make the coral inlands
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      In the southern sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Little social falsehoods,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Such as "Not at home,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lead to realms of darkness
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Where the wicked roam.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Likewise little cuss words
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Such as "blast," and "blow,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Quite as much as wuss words
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Fill the place below.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0029" id="linkimage-0029"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/129m.jpg" alt="129m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/129.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      AN AMBITIOUS DREAM.
    </h2>
    <h3>
      <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;|I
      walked about in Wynyard Square
    </h3>
    <p class="indent10">
      At four one afternoon;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I saw a stately peeler there,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He softly hummed a tune.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The sun-rays lit his buttons bright;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He stalked with stately stride;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It was a fair and goodly sight&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The peeler in his pride
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And padded was his manly breast,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Such kingly mien had he,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And such a chest, I thought how blest
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That peeler's lot must be.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I noted well his martial air,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And settled that of course
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He was the idol of the fair,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The angel of the Force.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No cook or house-maid could resist,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I felt, by any chance,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That dark moustache with cork-screw twist,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That marrow-searching glance.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And o'er each little news-boy's head
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He towered like a mast;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His voice, to match that stately tread,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Should shame a trumpet-blast!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I pondered on the matter much
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And thought I'd like to be
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Escorted to the "dock" by such
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A demi-god as he.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I gazed upon his form entranced&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He never noticed me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For visions through his fancy danced
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of mutton cold for tea.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He knew he hadn't long to stand
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Till&mdash;Mary's labours o'er&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      She'd lead him gently by the hand
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Inside the kitchen door.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Ensconced in some snug vantage-coign
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At ease he'd stretch each limb,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And feast on cutlet and sirloin,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Purloined for love of him.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0030" id="linkimage-0030"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/132m.jpg" alt="132m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/132.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      I leant against a scaffold-beam&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I must have had a nap
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I think, because I had a dream&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I dreamt I was a 'trap'!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I thought I had allegiance sworn
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And that there was for <i>me</i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The regulation tile that's worn
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By every trap you see;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The coat and thingumbobs as well,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      What joy could equal this?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No Gillott's patent pens could tell
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My wild ecstatic bliss!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I thought they portioned out my beat&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A foot I'm sure I grew,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And as I walked up Hunter Street
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I felt a match for two.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I felt my bosom throb behind
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My coat of azure blue,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And trembled for the peace of mind
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of every girl I knew.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I saw myself in future fights
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The populace enthrall,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      While brightly blaze the city lights
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I cry "come one, come all!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To grab their leader see me try
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      (Though rent my lovely coat)
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The light of battle in my eye,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My hand upon his throat!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The truncheon used with practised skill
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Requites him for his sin,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In such a hand as mine it will
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Abraise his rebel skin.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I thought of each bush-ranging chap,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And for a moment sighed
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That I was not a mounted trap
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Through tea-tree scrub to ride.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But soon the notion I dismiss,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For I can plainly see
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That such a line of life as this
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Much harder lines would be.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Beneath a bushel in the bush
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My shining light to hide,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I felt would be a gross misuse
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Sydney's hope and pride.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My look alone would petrify
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A breaker of the peace,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And where I turned my searching eye
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Dishonesty would cease.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Police reports my name should state,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Each deed of mine should be
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A deed for traps to emulate,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And try to be like me.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My blushing honours should be worn
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With unobtrusive grace,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And energy and zeal adorn
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My calm heroic face.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My beat was not in nasty slums
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where vulgar rowdies meet;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But see! the conquering hero comes&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The pride of George's Street!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I thought he'd be a hardy boy
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Who'd shout in accents coarse
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Who stole the mutton-pie, ahoy!"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Now I was in the force.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or should a cabby ere presume
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To overcharge a fare,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My eagle glance it would consume
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That cabby then and there.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Now mercy light on yonder boy
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Who blows the sportive pea!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His visage lit with fiendish joy&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For he'll get none from me.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Some power save him from my care,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Preserve him from my clutch,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or mutilated past repair
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He 'll have to use a crutch.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His form, though supple as an eel,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His mother wouldn't know
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Again if I'd a chance to deal
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      One stiffening truncheon blow!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No more his little idle hands
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Will scatter orange peel
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      When fast enclosed in iron bands,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or brightly polished steel.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I'd marked a nice secluded seat,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Twas somewhere in the park,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Where I could slumber long and sweet
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As soon as it got dark.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I spotted out each servant gal
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'd let make love to me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The houses where I'd take a "spell,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And call and have my tea.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I took the bearings of the doors,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And windows front and back
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Where I, unseen, by vulgar boors,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Could go and have a "snack."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Fond, foolish women, at my feet
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In yearning worship fell,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And one, she was uncommon sweet,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Her name I'll never tell.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I thought I'd never lived 'till now,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or that I'd lived in vain;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It was a hardish rub, I vow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That I should wake again.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Fulfilment of a nobler plan
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Ambition couldn't crave&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I was a trap!&mdash;each common man
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Seemed born to be my slave!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But stay&mdash;whose hand is on me now?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Who dares to clutch my cape?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      What light is this, and who art thou,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Thou shadowy, ghastly shape?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A fearful light is shed around,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I quake and dare not stir&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A voice! and husky is its sound&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      It says,&mdash;"'Ullo! you, Sir!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Before me was the man I'd praised,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And my illusion fled
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      When his infernal truncheon raised
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A blister on my head.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Sometimes at midnight's solemn hour
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I dream this dream again,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And, thinking its <i>her</i> form once more,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The pillow tightly strain;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or fiercely to the door I spring,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And firmly grip the hasp,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And smile to think I've got again
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The truncheon in my grasp.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The beads of sweat they gather fast,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And from my nose they fall,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I wake, and find, alas! alas!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'm not a trap at all!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0031" id="linkimage-0031"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/139m.jpg" alt="139m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/139.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
<pre xml:space="preserve">        * Originally contributed to <i>Sydney Punch</i>.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      SUPERNATURAL REVELATIONS OF A FANCY-GOODS MAN,
    </h2>
    <h3>
      OR THE DIABOLICAL DEMON OF THE DEADLY DRAIN.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>here lived in
      Parramatta Street
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A cove&mdash;his name was Joe&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Who nightly sniffed its odours sweet
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      (Not very long ago.)
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Its every scent right well he knew,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They often made him frown,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And he was fancy-goods-man to
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A big firm here in town.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0032" id="linkimage-0032"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/140m.jpg" alt="140m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/140.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      As Joe lay down one night&mdash;he slept
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In summer far from from well&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A nameless horror o'er him crept,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of what he couldn't tell;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His hair was rising up he knew,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He felt his blood grow cold;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He felt a little frightened, too,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For Joseph wasn't bold.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0033" id="linkimage-0033"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/141m.jpg" alt="141m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/141.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      And while he vainly seeking rest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Lay tossing to and fro,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      By name he heard himself addressed&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The unknown voice said, "Joe!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Arise, Oh Joseph! from thy bed&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Arise, and follow me!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Hush! not a word," the spirit said,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "For I'm a ghost, d'ye see?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Bring kerosene, and bring thy lamp,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And arm thee to the teeth,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For thou in yonder gloomy swamp
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Shalt win a laurel wreath."<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0034" id="linkimage-0034"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/142m.jpg" alt="142m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/142.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Now follow me," the spirit said,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "For well I know the track,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And thou shall slay the demon dread
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Wattle Swamp the Black."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Then toward the demon's dread abode
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The ghastly goblin flits&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The spirit was to show the road,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joe to give him "fits."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And silently they followed all
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The windings of the creek;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      At times they heard a night-bird call&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At times a tom-cat shriek.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0035" id="linkimage-0035"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/143m.jpg" alt="143m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/143.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      But of the voices of the night
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They took no heed as yet;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The ghost said, "Joseph, are you right?"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joseph said, "You bet!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And thus began the demon-hunt:
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The road was dark and drear;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The ghost was mostly on in front,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joseph in the rear.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      At times they crawled along a trench
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That held Joe's feet like glue;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And there was many a stifling stench,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And many a cast off shoe.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0036" id="linkimage-0036"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/144m.jpg" alt="144m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/144.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      And oft they waded deep in slime
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where rotting herbage grew;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The ghost said, "Joseph, take your time,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joseph murmured, "ph&mdash;ew!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      At length a dark and gloomy pond
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Appeared to block the track;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The spirit was for goin' on,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joe for goin' back.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Before the breeze his shirt-tails blow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And though he's sore distressed,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The spirit said he had to go,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joseph gave him best.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Young man!" the spirit said, "'tis vain
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To bandy words with me;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Just stretch those <i>bandy</i> legs again,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For I'm a ghost, d'ye see?"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And Joseph, making answer soft,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They thus resumed the track&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The spirit bore the lamp aloft,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Joseph on his back.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0037" id="linkimage-0037"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/146m.jpg" alt="146m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/146.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Yon demon dread," the spirit said,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Has reaped his human crops,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And feasted, battened on the dead
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Too long&mdash;we'll give him slops!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      he ghost explained the shrieks which rose
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From out the inky tides
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Were made by disembodied coves
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With pains in their insides.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      E'en while he spoke a horrid smoke
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Belched forth upon the air,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And forth fresh yells and shriekings broke,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And up went Joseph's hair.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The spirit slid him from his back,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But Joseph trembled so,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And wished devoutly he was back
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With Messrs. Blank &amp; Co.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Stand firm!" the spirit said, "drink this
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Tis strength and courage too;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      We'll awe this great metropolis
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With deeds of 'derring-do.'"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0038" id="linkimage-0038"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/147m.jpg" alt="147m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/147.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      Then straightway rose before their sight
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The demon's war-like crest;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He's green and blue, and black and white,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With plague-spots on his breast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I could not paint the demon's form&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Distraught, convulsed with ire&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His voice was like the thunder-storm,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His eyes like lakes of fire.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He breathed forth typhoid, boils and croup
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With every breath he drew;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His touch meant measles, whooping-cough
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And scarlatina too.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He comes with measured steps and slow&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Earth groaned beneath his tramp&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And with one grinding, crashing blow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He shivered Joseph's&mdash;&mdash;lamp!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He glared around him, and his eyes
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Shone with a baleful light:
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Who, who are ye," the demon cries,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That wander through the night?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0039" id="linkimage-0039"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/149m.jpg" alt="149m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/149.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Who, who are ye, that dare to come
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My fair domain to haunt?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Go, seek some more congenial slum,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Avaunt! d'ye hear? Avaunt!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Now Joseph felt his courage rise
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From out his blucher boots,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And while the cautious curlew cries,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And while the swamp-owl hoots&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Despite a lingering touch of cramp&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His muscles he did brace,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And hurled the fragments of the lamp
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Slap in the demon's face!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Who's this?" the demon said, said he,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "A stalwart knight, I ween!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My eyes are blind, I cannot see,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They're full of kero<i>seen</i>"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Then Joseph's heart within him leapt&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The demon being blind&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Right gingerly he crawled and crept,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And gave him one behind.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The spirit used a two-edged sword
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      (He used it like an axe)
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And while that outraged giant roared,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His right leg he attacks.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Thus, thu close, that warlike pair,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon the slimy beach,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And Joseph poked him here and there,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Wherever he could reach.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And while the giant squirmeth from
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The toasting-fork of Joe,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The ghost (clean peeled) came grimly on
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To strike the final blow.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0040" id="linkimage-0040"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/151m.jpg" alt="151m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/151.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      Then, Joe, when he his tactics knew,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Attacked his other calf,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And swamp-owls' echoed as they flew
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The spirit's ghastly laugh.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And soon, beneath those stalwart knocks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Which echo and resound,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The demon's severed person rocks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And topples to the ground
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Go in and win," the spirit said&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "Go in and win, old son!"
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The demon he was nearly dead.
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      So Joe went in and won.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That ghost full many a 'spotted-gum'
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Had felled in life, you see,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And so they felled that spotted one,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For foul and fell was he.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      "Now fetch me wedges," quoth the ghost,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "For here, I guess, we'll camp;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      We'll blast his trunk, split rails and posts,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And fence Blackwattle Swamp!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But stay! what means that sounding thwack?
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That agonizing roar?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And how comes Joseph on his back&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon his bedroom floor?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Where's now the elevated head,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The majesty and pomp
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Of him who slew the demon dread
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That lived in Wattle Swamp?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Mephitic odours filled the room,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And, acting on his brain,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      These made him dream of blackest gloom,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And deadly demons slain.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Till, rolling from his couch, he broke
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The silence with a scream,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He bumped upon the floor&mdash;then woke, *
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And found it all a dream!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Next morning, so tradition tells,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His way to church Joe took,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To curse the Corporation swells
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With candle, bell, and book.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     * 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.
</pre>
    <p class="indent5">
      He prayed that they might cursèd be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Within the Council hall,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      At evening parties, breakfast, tea,&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At dinner most of all.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That they might feast in woe and grief,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On chicken with the croup;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That pleuro might infect their beef,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And flies invade their soup;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0041" id="linkimage-0041"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/154m.jpg" alt="154m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/154.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      That turtles, though so often "turned,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Might some day turn on them,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And that at last they might be burned,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And fricasseed in-hem!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And ne'er this curse shall lifted be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From Aldermanic back,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Until from odours foul set free
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Is Wattle Swamp the Black.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHRISTMAS.
    </h2>
    <h3>
      By a New Chum.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hat means that
      merry clanging chime
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Which fills the air with melody?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They tell me that 'tis Christmas time,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But that I think can scarcely be.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      This explanation is, I say,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A little bit too thin for me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      While fiercely strikes the solar ray
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Through hat of straw and puggaree.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The centigrade, I grieve to see,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Stands up at figures past belief,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And naught but frequent S and B
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Gives my perspiring soul relief.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No veil of snow enwraps the lea,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And as for skating in the Park,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or sledging, one as well might be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On Ararat in Noahs ark.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Where is the icy blast, and where
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The white hoar frost, and driving sleet?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      At night I suffocate and swear
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With nothing on me but a sheet.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Mosquitoes hum the whole night through,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And flies salute me when I wake
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In numbers anything but few,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And yesterday I saw a snake.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No leaf decays; no flower dies;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      All nature seems as fair and bright
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      As, when beneath Judean skies,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The shepherds watched their flocks by night.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      [In fair Judea's sunny clime,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Among its mountain gorges lone,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Those shepherds had a rosy time,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For wire-fencing wasn't known.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They were not prone to "knocking-down"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of cheques or going on the spree,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For "pubs" and "shanties" were not found
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Beside the Lake of Galilee.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They groaned not 'neath the squatters yoke;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A life of pure arcadian ease
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was theirs-ah! happy, happy blokes!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For this digression, pardon, please.]
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      <i>Those</i> Christmas chimes, indeed! their notes
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Awake no passing thought in me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Of flannel vests, and Ulster coats,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      So Christmas chimes they cannot be.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A drowsy hum is in the air&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      There's perspiration on my skin;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The locusts eat the grass-plots bare,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And deafen with their noisy din.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The folks were drinking summer drinks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      When first I landed here last "fall
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Tis summer still, alas! methinks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They have no Christmas here at all.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But stay! that paper pile sublime&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of I O.U. and unpaid bill&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Breathes somewhat of the festive time
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of "peace on earth&mdash;to man good-will."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      There's Starkey's bill for lemonade,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Peape's and Shaw's for summer suits,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A host of others, all unpaid,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For ice, and cubas, and cheroots.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Enough! 'tis proof enough for me&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Proof stronger far than Christmas chime;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Your pardon, friend, for doubting thee,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Beyond a doubt 'tis Christmas time.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      "THE CATARACT." *
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> stood by the
      trunk of a giant box
    </p>
    <p>
      And watched the Cataract down the rocks
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With ceaseless thunder go.
    </p>
    <p>
      The boiling waters seethed and hissed,
    </p>
    <p>
      And glittering clouds of gleaming mist
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Ascended from below.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      The fading glow of the sunlight slants
    </p>
    <p>
      O'er the frowning cliff which the creeping plants,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And moss, and lichens drape.
    </p>
    <p>
      The mist spread forth on the sultry air&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      'Twas wreathed in figures, some foul, some fair;
    </p>
    <p>
      I traced the form of a spectre there
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of weird and ghastly shape.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      There was silence, save for the summer breeze
    </p>
    <p>
      Which swayed the tops of the mess-mate trees,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And the torrent's noisy flow.
    </p>
    <p>
      Awhile the figure seemed to stand,
    </p>
    <p>
      Then waved a shadowy, spectral hand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And pointed down below.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     * Written for the Town and Country Journal, March 25th,
     1876, with reference to the well-known Cataract near Berrima.
</pre>
    <p>
      With wild vague thoughts my fancy strove
    </p>
    <p>
      Of hidden riches, and treasure trove,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And gems and jewels bright;
    </p>
    <p>
      And what, thought I, if the omen's true?
    </p>
    <p>
      And thick and fast such fancies grew
    </p>
    <p>
      Till rock, and torrent, and spectre too
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      All faded from my sight
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I saw the crust of the earth removed&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Each wild conjecture fairly proved&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I saw, 'twas even so,
    </p>
    <p>
      Peerless gems of price untold,
    </p>
    <p>
      Piles on piles of glittering gold,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the moon-beams glinted clear and cold
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      On the wealth that lay below.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      Ere long men came to that valley "fair;
    </p>
    <p>
      They sought for coal-black diamonds there,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And they dragged them from below:
    </p>
    <p>
      And the furnace fires, the hiss of steam,
    </p>
    <p>
      And the whirr of fly-wheel, belt, and beam
    </p>
    <p>
      Fulfilled that shadowy, golden dream
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I dreamt so long ago.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE STOCKMAN'S GRAVE.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>om the stockman's
      gone&mdash;he'll never
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Use again his supple thong,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or, dashing madly through the mulga,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Urge the scattered herd along.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      O'er for Tom is life's hard battle!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Well he rode, and nothing feared;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Never more among the cattle
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Shall his cheery voice be heard.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Liked he was with' all his failings;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Let no idle hand efface.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That rude ring of rough split palings,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Marking out his resting place.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Sadly have his comrades left him
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where the cane-grass, gently stirred
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      By the north wind, bends and quivers&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where the bell-bird's note is heard;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Where the tangled "boree" blossoms,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where the "gidya" thickets wave,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And the tall yapunyah's * shadow
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Rests upon the stockman's grave.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     * A species of Eucalyptus which flourishes on the Paroo and
     in the west of Queensland.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      EPITAPH ON A CONVIVIAL SHEARER.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>ere Thompson lies&mdash;good
      worthy man&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Come, gentle reader, nearer;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He's now as quiet as a lamb
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Though once he was a shearer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Though many sheep in life he shore,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He's now beyond retrieving!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He's <i>sheered</i> off to that other <i>shore</i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Which surely there's no leaving.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Though he o'er ewes and wethers too
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Was often bent, I'm thinking
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Rough <i>weather</i> o'er him bends the <i>yew</i>&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He killed himself with drinking.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No more in shed, or yard, or hut
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Will Thompson be appearing!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      On wings of <i>down</i> his soul flew <i>up</i>&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He's gone where there's no shearing.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He often handled "Ward and Payne's,"*
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For he was often shearing!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Alas! the pains of death reward
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His everlasting beering.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And from his fingers dropped the shears,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For nature's debt was pressing;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Death nailed his body for arrears&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His spirit effervescing.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Though at his jokes we often roared,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He's now a soundish sleeper!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His crop of chaff at length is floored
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By Death, that mighty reaper.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     * Note.&mdash;Ward and Payne's sheep shears are or were most in
     use in the Australian Colonies when the above was written.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      A CANDIDATE FOR AN EARLY GRAVE.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hat makes me wear
      my boots so tight,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And much pomatum buy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Toss restless on my bed at night,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And like an earthquake sigh?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I 've seen a maid, I'd fain persuade
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That girl to fancy me;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Thrice happy fate with such a mate
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For life as Polly C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But then I can't without her aunt
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That damsel ever see;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Why must there always be a "but"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Between my hopes and me?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And Polly C&mdash;&mdash;&mdash; has got to be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Between me and my peace,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For though I can't endure the aunt,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I idolize the neice.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The aunt is forty-three at least,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The neice but seventeen;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For her I pine, for her so greased
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My hair of late has been.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For her my feet are close compressed
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In boots a deal too tight;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For her I sacrifice my rest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And get no sleep at night;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For her I run that tailor's bill
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That makes my father swear,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And to the grave I fear it will
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Bring down his grizzled hair.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      We met, but 'twas not in a crowd,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      It was not at a ball,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Nor where cascades with thunder loud
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From precipices fall;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Nor where the mountain torrents rush,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or ocean billows heave;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Nor at the railway terminus
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Mid cries of "by'r leave;"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It was not in the forest wild,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Nor on the silent sea&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Romantic reader don't be riled&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Twas at a "spelling-bee."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0042" id="linkimage-0042"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/168m.jpg" alt="168m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/168.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Twas there I marked the jetty coil
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That crowned her classic head&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The perfumes of macassar oil
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Were all around her shed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And o'er the meaner spirits there
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Her mighty soul arose;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Her intellect and genius were
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Aspiring&mdash;like her nose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And Polly was the fairest there&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'The goddess of the class&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Among the <i>poly</i>syllables
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Unscathed I saw her pass.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Examiners with piercing eye,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And terror-striking frown
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In vain to trip her up might try&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In vain to take her down.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      She triumphs, and the loud applause
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      From roof to basement rings&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Each other girl with envy gnaws
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Her hat and bonnet strings.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Sometimes (regardless of expense)
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I dressed and went to church;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      One glimpse of her would recompense
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My eager longing search.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And, while the swelling organ rent
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The air with solemn tunes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      On spelling-bees my thoughts were bent
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And happy honeymoons.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And where I brooding sat alone
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The wildest dreams I dreamt,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And swore to win her for my own
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or "bust' in the attempt.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      We met at parties, and our toes
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Whirl in the dreamy waltz,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And if at times a thought arose&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Could hair like that be false?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I sniffed the reassuring coil
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That shamed the damask rose,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And could not breathe a thought disloyal
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      While that was near my nose.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0043" id="linkimage-0043"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/171m.jpg" alt="171m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/171.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      At length her aunt&mdash;the summer gone&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The influenza got;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To see my Polly to her home
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      It oft became my lot.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And if I took the longest way
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The fraud was never known,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For organ of "locality"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My darling she had none.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      One night, about the supper hour,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Thanks to some kindly fate,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      We reached the entrance to her bower&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I mean the garden gate.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      It was a gloomy night and wet
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With rain and driving sleet,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And more than common risk beset
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Pedestrians in the street.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      From harm from wheel of cab or cart
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'd kept my darling free,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And in the fulness of her heart
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      She asked me in to tea.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Her aunt, that stately dame and grand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Looked knives and forks at me;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      She'd "Butter's Spelling" in her hand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And "Webster" on her knee.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Her bead-like eyes gleamed bright behind
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The spectacles she wore;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Of intellect and strength of mind
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      She had enough for four.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And tall her figure was, and spare,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And bony were her joints;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Orthography and grammar were
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The strongest of her points.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A morbid taste this virgin chaste
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For dictionaries had;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Though Polly C. might perfect be,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Her aunt was spelling mad.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I felt that if an angel bright
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To earth from Oether fell,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      She'd either give that Son of Light
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Some heavy word to spell,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Or else she'd get him on to parse,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Till sick of earthly things,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He'd work his passage to the stars
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon his downy wings.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0044" id="linkimage-0044"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/174m.jpg" alt="174m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/174.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      At Dr. Blank's academy,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I never took the lead;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My grammar and orthography
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Were very weak indeed,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And oft those academic walls
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Have echoed to my howls,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Responsive to the Doctor's calls
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For consonants and vow'ls.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      His rules respecting "Q's" and "P's"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Were graven on our backs,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And though we had no spelling-bees,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I got my share of <i>whacks</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For what the Doctor failed to see
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Impressed upon the mind,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Was certain very soon to be
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Impressed in full <i>behind</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But still, despite the scathing look,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And cane of Dr. Blank.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My spelling powers never took
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      An elevated rank.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And if my hopes of Polly hung
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon so frail a thread,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My life was blighted 'ere begun&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My hopes, scarce born, were dead.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      All silent through that evening meal
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I sat with bended head,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And now and then a glance I steal
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At Polly while she fed;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But though her eyes I often seek,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I only look at most;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My heart's too full of love to speak,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My mouth too full of toast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! sweet love-feast!&mdash;too sweet to last&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Oh! bitter after-cud!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! spinster grim why didst thou blast
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Love's blossom in the bud?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For, ere one happy hour could pass,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That virgin grim and fell
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Invited me to join the class
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where Polly went to spell;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And though I trembled in my shoes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In hopeless agony,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Could I the aunt of her refuse
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Whose <i>spell</i> was over me?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      At length arrived the dreaded hour,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And primed with <i>eau de vie</i>,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I sought that orthographic bower
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Where met the spelling-bee.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No hope of prizes lured me toward
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Those hundred gleaming eyes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For me there was but one reward,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And Polly was the prize.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      For her my dull ambition leapt,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In literary lists
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      To cope with lunatics who slept
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With "Webster" in their fists.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Vague dread forebodings cloud my brow,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And make my cheek grow pale,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! Dr. Johnson help me now&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My hopes are in the scale!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My frame with apprehension shook;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To nerve me for the task,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      With tender, longing, yearning look
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I eyed my pocket-flask,
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And tempted by the spirit bright
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That dwelt within its lips,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I put the contents out of sight
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In two convulsive sips.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A stony-eyed examiner
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Came in and took the chair;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I knew a place that's spelt with "H,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And wished that he was there.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I softly cursed his form erect,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His "specs" with golden rim,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And prayed that doctors might dissect
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      His body limb from limb.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But soon the spirit's subtle fume
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Obfusticates my view;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The common objects of the room
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Seem multiplied by two.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My breast, the late abode of funk,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With courage was embued;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I was a little less than drunk,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And something more than screwed.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And while my heart beat loud and fast
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With wild convulsive pants,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I saw <i>two</i> Pollys, and alas!
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A <i>pair</i> of Polly's Aunts!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I fail to solve the mystery
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Which Polly I prefer,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But thought I'd like <i>Poly</i>gamy
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      With duplicates of her.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Involved in intellectual gloom,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I found the A. B. C.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Had vanished, vanquished by the fumes
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Henessey's P. B.
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And when that stony-looking one
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Applied at length to me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I spelt "consumption" with a "K,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And "kangaroo" with "C"!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I will not paint these harrowing scenes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Nor keep thee, reader, long,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Nor tell thee how I shocked the "Bee"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      By breaking forth in song.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0045" id="linkimage-0045"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/180m.jpg" alt="180m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/180.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      Two orthographic youths arose,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And dragged me from the room,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Despite my wild and aimless blows,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Into the outer gloom.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0046" id="linkimage-0046"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/181m.jpg" alt="181m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/181.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent5">
      With force, and tender soothing tones
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They led me from the hall,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And laid me on the cold, cold stones
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Beneath the bare brick wall.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They spread for me no blanket warm.
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No cloak or 'possum-rug,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And peelers bore my helpless form
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In triumph to the "Jug."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Next day I found the "summons-<i>sheet</i>"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A <i>blanket</i> cold indeed;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I felt that liberty was sweet,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I wanted to be freed:
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But peelers' hearts are solid rock,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They wouldn't hear me speak,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They dragged me to the felon's dock
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Before a hook-nosed "beak."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      He offered me&mdash;that hook-nosed "beak"&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The option of a fine,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      In place of many a weary week
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of punishment condign.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I mutely pointed to my Sire,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The fount of my supplies,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And then bereft of joy I left
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The court with tearful eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I could not read again and live
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The note I got 'ere long,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      From Polly's single relative
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Anent my goings on.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      She told me it would be as well
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Our intercourse should cease&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That one who drank, and couldn't spell
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Should never have her niece.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      She recommended frugal fare,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And lexicons, and pumps,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      But when I think of Polly's hair
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My own comes out in lumps!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! tell me not a "spelling-bee's"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A sweet and pleasant thing;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I've drunk of sorrow's bitter lees&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I've felt that insect's sting.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      My hopes are dead, despair hath spread
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      O'er me its blackest pall;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The honey and the wine of life.
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Are turned to bitter gall.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Although I'm barely twenty-one
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My crop of care is ripe!
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      No joy have I in moon or sun,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Or in my meerchaum pipe.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Oh! where are now the happy days,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      When first I learnt to smoke?
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      When life seemed one long holiday&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Existence but a joke?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      When I'd no other thought or care
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Except my cane to gnaw,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And train the soft incipient hair
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That grew upon my jaw?
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      They've passed away those happy day
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And now I only crave
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      A brief, brief life&mdash;an early death,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A requiem, and a grave.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And billiards now I never play;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Not long my father will
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Be troubled by me to defray
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      That tailor's lengthened bill.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I never wink at bar-maids now,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But soberly I tread
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      As walketh one whose home's among
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The cold and silent dead.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      One debt lies heavy on my breast
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'd like to pay but can't;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I'd like, before I go to rest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      To settle Polly's aunt.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      I hope they'll take her where the time
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Counts not by days and weeks&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      The place of which 'tis wrong to rhyme,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And no one ever speaks!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      'Tis where the letters that she loves&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The consonants and vow'ls&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      Are <i>melted down in patent stoves, </i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And moulded into howls!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0047" id="linkimage-0047"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/186m.jpg" alt="186m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/186.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0048" id="linkimage-0048"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/187m.jpg" alt="187m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/187.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      A PEELER'S APPEAL
    </h2>
    <h3>
      Against the Helmet of Modern Times.
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> was a peeler of a
      kind
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      That's seldom met with now;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I used to part my hair behind,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      It clustered o'er my brow
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In glossy ringlets, crisp and dark;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I had a massive chest,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And oft I lit love's fatal spark
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Within the female breast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The buttons on my coat of blue
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Shone with effulgent light,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And cooks with eyes of dazzling hue
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Fell prostrate at the sight.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0049" id="linkimage-0049"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/188m.jpg" alt="188m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/188.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent10">
      At almost every kitchen door
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      They met me with a smile;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But then in modest pride I wore
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The regulation tile.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No more they come with outstretched arms
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      My person to enwrap;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      No more they hold the mutton cold
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      As sacred to the trap.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They never asks me into sup;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      No smoking joints they bile;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They hates this cursed new-come-up&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      This 'elmet mean and vile.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0050" id="linkimage-0050"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/189m.jpg" alt="189m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/189.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent10">
      The boys what vends the "Evenin' News,'"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      When I comes stalkin' by,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Awakes each alley, lane and mews,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      With, "Crikey! 'ere's a guy!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The cabbies stare so hard at me,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      No wonder I gets huffed;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They grins, and axes who I be,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And if I'm "real or stuffed"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0051" id="linkimage-0051"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/190m.jpg" alt="190m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/190.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent10">
      And when I walks about my beat
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The hosses dreads the sight;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They stands up endways in the street
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A snortin' with affright.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The 'bus-conductors winks and leers,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And holds their sides and splits;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And kids of very tender years
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I frightens into fits.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I once was right at forty-four
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For supper, lunch, and tea;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Upon this bosom Susan swore
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      She'd never love but me.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Alas! for that inconstant cook
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The 'elmet 'ad no charms;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A most sanguineous butcher took
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      My Susan to his arms.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      My Susan's cheeks were fair and sleek&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      So were the chops she cooked;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But on her chops, and on her cheek,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      My last I fear I've looked.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0052" id="linkimage-0052"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/192m.jpg" alt="192m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/192.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent10">
      That butcher said as how 'twas <i>meat</i>
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      That me and she should part,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And never more for me will beat
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      That culinary 'eart.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Now listen you who've got to fix
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      What bobbies is to wear,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And if your 'earts aim 'ard as bricks,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Oh! 'ear a peelers prayer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0053" id="linkimage-0053"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/195m.jpg" alt="195m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/195.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="indent10">
      Oh! take the elmet from my brow&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The curse from off my 'ed;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      You aint no sort o' notion ow
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I wishes I wos dead.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      There's nothing calculated more
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A cove's good looks to spile;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Oh! if you've 'carts, restore, restore,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The regulation tile!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      You can't give back that cook's fond 'eart&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Her chops, her cheek, her smile;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But if you'd make amends in part,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Restore, restore my tile!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0054" id="linkimage-0054"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/196m.jpg" alt="196m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/196.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE following
      verses will probably be more intelligible to the bush reader than the
      metropolitan one. The latter is at liberty to "pass":&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0055" id="linkimage-0055"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/197m.jpg" alt="197m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/197.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE OLD HAND.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>'m forty years in
      New South Wales,
    </p>
    <p class="indent5">
      And knows a thing or two;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Can build a hut, and train a slut,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And chaff a "Jackeroo." *
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">               * See reference b.
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      I chiefly sticks to splittin' rails&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      It's contract work, d'ye see;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I hates to ave a station-boss
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A-overlookin' me.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I left my country for its good,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      But not my own, I fear;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I makes big cheques a splittin' wood,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And knocks 'em down in beer.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I knows the Murrumbidgee's bends,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Though not a "whaler" * now,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And many a score of sheep I've shore
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For good old Jacky Dow.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I used to knock about on farms,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And plough a "land" or two;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But now for me that has no charms&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I hates a "Cockatoo." **
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     * Murrumbidgee whalers are a class of loafers who work for
     about six months in the year&mdash;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.
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'm splittin' for a squatter now
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Down here upon the creek;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He often says as how I've got
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A sight too much o' cheek.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They've got a new-chum over there&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I hates new-chums, I do;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I often tries to take a rise
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Out of that Jackeroo.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      One day when we was in the yard
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A draftin' out some ewes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      We axed him for to lend a hand,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      He couldn't well refuse.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I watched 'un for a minute just
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      To see what he would do;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Bless'd if he warn't a chuckin' out
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A lot o' wethers too!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He keeps the store and sarves the "dust"&mdash;*
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I only wish he'd slope;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I knows he often books to me
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Too many bars o' soap.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      In them it ain't no sort o' use
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Instruction to infuse;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      There ain t a gleam o' intellect
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      In new-chum Jackeroos.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      As soon as July fogs is gone
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I chucks my axe up there,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And gets a stock of Ward and Payne's*
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      At six and six a pair.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I've been a shearin' off an' on
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For such a precious while,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I knows most every shearin' shed,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And each partickler style.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'm able for to shear 'em clean,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And level as a die;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But I prefers to 'tommy-hawk,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And make the "daggers" fly.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They mostly says that to the skin
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      They means to have 'em shore;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I alius knocks off skin an' all
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      When they begins to jawr.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
               * Ward and Payne's sheep-shears.
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      My tally's eighty-five a day&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A hundred I could go,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      If coves would let me "open out"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And take a bigger "blow."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I allus roughs 'em when the boss
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Ain't on the shearin' floor;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      It wouldn't pay to shear 'em clean
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For three and six a score.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But when I see the super come
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Paradin' down the "board,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I looks as meek as any lamb
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      That ever yet was shored.
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For, though by knockin' sheep about
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      You're causin' him a loss,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      It's 'ard to have a squatter come
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And mark 'em with a cross. *
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      They say us shearers sulks and growls&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I'm swearing half the day,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Because them blasted "pickers-up"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Won't take the wool away.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
     * Sheep badly shorn are marked with a cross in red chalk,
     and are not paid for
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      At sundown to the hut we goes;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The young 'uns lark and fun;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The cook and I exchanges blows
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      If supper isn't done.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And when the tea and mutton's gone,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And each has had enough,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      We shoves the plates and pints away,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And has a game o' "bluff." *
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I works a little "on the cross,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I never trusts to luck;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I hates to have to "ante-up,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And likes to "pass the buck."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I've got a way of dealin' cards
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      As ain't exactly square;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I does some things with jacks and kings
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      As makes the young 'uns stare.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I've mostly got four aces though,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Or else a "routine flush
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I wins their cash and 'bacca, and
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      They pays for all my lush.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
                * "Poker."
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      I likes to get 'em in my debt
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For what their cheque '11 clear;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I've got a sort o' interest then
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      In every sheep they shear.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'm cunnin', and my little games
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      They never does detect;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But I never was partickler green
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      As I can recollect.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <h3>
      PREFACE TO THE PIC-NIC PAPERS,
    </h3>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>F I were asked to
      state the most noticeable feature of the social economy of Sydney&mdash;the
      thing which pre-eminently distinguishes her from other metropolises&mdash;I
      should, unhesitatingly, say pic-nics. I once held the proud position of
      occasional reporter to a weekly paper, and my mental calibre not being
      considered heavy enough, or my temperament sufficiently stolid to do
      justice to parliamentary debates, I was sent to report the pic-nics. In
      Sydney every trade gives one, and every private family about six in the
      course of the summer. Carpenters, butchers, barbers, blacksmiths,
      undertakers, even grave-diggers, all give their pic-nic during the season;
      and why should they not? Is it for me to ridicule the practice? Shall I,
      who have been received as an honoured guest at all (and retired to make
      three half-pence a line out of an account of the proceedings), splinter my
      puny lance of satire against a firmly-rooted and meritorious custom? I who
      have hobnobbed with the publicans, waltzed with the wheelwrights, done the
      <i>lard</i> i da with the pork-butchers' wives and daughters, danced <i>coat</i>illions
      with the tailors, and indulged in <i>soot</i>able amusements with the
      sweeps? Never!
    </p>
    <p>
      I have retired from the pic-nic business now, and though my reports were
      not masterpieces of descriptive writing, and never wrung even the smallest
      tribute of gratitude from those they were intended to immortalize, I give
      a specimen or two to serve as models to those who hereafter may be called
      upon to report pic-nics for journals, religious or otherwise.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE BUTCHER'S PIC-NIC.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HIS event came off
      with an unusual amount of eclat; merchants, members of parliament, and
      people of all kinds, were present; and if they were not all butchers, they
      all became squatters when the grassy plateaux of Correy's Gardens were
      reached. The pic-nic took place appropriately under a <i>ewe</i>-tree, and
      fortunately the <i>wether</i> was remarkably fine. Saws (wise ones
      excepted), axes, steels, and all other implements used in the trade, were,
      by common consent, left behind, and the only killing done was that
      accomplished by several fascinating young slaughter-men, whose hair and
      accents were oily not to say greasy in the extreme. One of these, who went
      in heavily for euphuism, told his inamorata that her heart was harder than
      his father's block, and the satire of her tongue keener than the edge of a
      certain cleaver in his parent's possession.
    </p>
    <p>
      Sir Loin Oxborough, Fifth Baron (of beef), estates strictly <i>entailed</i>,
      was unanimously voted to a deserted "bull-dog's" nest, which did duty for
      a chair. He occupied this position with dignity, and made a speech, <i>interlarding</i>
      his discourse with several choice <i>cuts</i> from <i>Steel</i> and other
      poets; e.g.,
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Reveal, reveal</i> the light of truth to me!"
    </p>
    <p>
      "<i>Steak</i> not thine all upon the die!" &amp;c.
    </p>
    <p>
      He said they were met to enjoy themselves, and by their <i>joint</i>
      exertions to banish dull care; adversity might come, but what of that? He
      had always found that a round of afflictions, or a dark cloud had a silver
      lining, or rather a "silver-side," like a round of beef. He had often been
      in trouble himself&mdash;cut down, as it were, by the cleaver of
      adversity; reduced, he might say, to mince-meat by the sausage-machine of
      ill-luck; and he and his family had been once or twice regularly salted
      down in the harness-cask of fate; but, thanks to his natural buoyancy, or
      (<i>butcher</i>)-boy-ancy of spirits, he had risen like a bladder to the
      surface of the sea of despondency, and lived to pluck the skewers of
      affliction from his heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      He advocated morality and sobriety. He might say he had lived a moral and
      sober life, for though he had been a free and generous <i>liver</i>, he
      had always done his duty to his fellow-men according to his <i>lights</i>.
      His motto was "live and let live," except where dumb animals were
      concerned&mdash;those he killed on principle, as a matter of business; and
      he respected all religious sects, except vegetarians. He had been cut up
      by sorrow, and cast down by depression of trade as often as most men. He
      had seen beef at tuppence a pound, hides at 2s. 6d. each, and tallow at
      nothing at all (warm weather, and no colds in the head prevalent), but he
      had never lost heart; from a boy, hopefulness had always been a meat-tray
      (he begged pardon, he meant a <i>sweet</i> trait) in his character; he had
      persevered, worked hard, and had eventually carved his way to wealth,
      fame, and fortune, through bone, gristle, flesh, skin, sinew and all. He
      was prosperous, but he owed his rise more to shoulders of mutton than the
      shoulders of his friends. He had been self-reliant, just, and generous;
      and though he had flayed many a beast, he had never yet attempted to <i>skin
      a flint</i>. (Cheers.) He was not democratic, and he believed more in the
      horny-headed monsters than the horny-handed masses; still he liked to see
      a man rise by his own exertions; and, inasmuch as a king&mdash;Charles the
      First to wit&mdash;had shewn how easy was the transition from the throne
      to the block, he did not see why an ascent from the block to the throne
      might not be equally possible.
    </p>
    <p>
      In conclusion, he recommended his friends to take the fat with the lean
      through life, and not to grumble because some one else appeared to have
      all the prime-cuts of fortune, and all the rich fat of prosperity, and
      they only the fag-end and the bone. He sat down (on the deserted ant's
      nest) amid loud and reiterated applause.
    </p>
    <p>
      Festivities then commenced The guests sat on their haunches and drank the
      blood of the grape out of hogs' heads.
    </p>
    <p>
      The toasts drunk were the "Gallus"&mdash;not the gallows; the block and
      cleaver, &amp;c. The juniors played "<i>round</i>ers," and (<i>raw</i>) "<i>hide</i>
      and seek." Dancing was kept up with animation until a late hour. Old Tommy
      Hawk danced a <i>porka</i>, and his peculiar <i>shambling</i> gait called
      forth rounds of applause. Several games of chance were played for beef <i>stakes</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      A butcher who dealt largely in <i>goat's</i> flesh sang the touching
      Scotch ballad, "Oh, Nanny, wilt thou gang wi me," and old Pork Chops sang
      "Those evening <i>chines</i>" in a most affecting manner. The festivities
      continued until they could not very well continue any longer, and every
      body returned home perfectly satisfied.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE OYSTERMEN'S AND FISHMONGERS' PIC-NIC.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>ON DAY was a great
      day. Though the bosom of the ocean was apparently unruffled by a zephyr,
      terror and excitement raged beneath its surface. Influential members of
      the finny tribe darted hither and thither in a manner which indicated that
      something unusual was afloat, and the piscatorial republic was shaken to
      its very centre. The military (that is, the sword-fish) were under arms,
      or rather fins, at an early hour, and formed a roe in martial array. The
      less warlike betrayed their agitation in a variety of ways. Sawfish from
      the Gulf of Carpentaria left their usual occupation of cutting the water,
      rose to the surface, and sawed the air in an agony of in tench excitement;
      mercantile fish abandoned their scales and took their weigh to places of
      security; limpets, becoming enervated, relaxed their hold upon the rock;
      oysters tossed restlessly on their beds, and even the jelly-fish trembled.
      Nor was this surprising; for were not the fishmongers and oystermen about
      to hold carnival&mdash;to celebrate the rites and ceremonies of their
      order? and, knowing this, could any member of the finny tribe remain
      unmoved, or even a molusc be calm?
    </p>
    <p>
      In spite, perhaps unconscious, of all this, the jubilant fishmongers
      proceeded to the enjoyment of their pic-nic with light hearts. The
      oystermen, most of whom were natives, were appropriately clothed in
      shell-jackets, and wore barnacles. Miss Annet Snapperton, resplendent in a
      sea-green fishu, with cochineel trimmings, and a sea-anemone in her hair,
      proved an irresistible bait to young Codlington, a susceptible periwinkler
      and oysterman. He swore by the beard of the sacred oyster that she was an
      angel&mdash;called her his turtle and his pet (limpet, in fact)&mdash;and,
      while he besought her to fly with him and share a "grotter of hyster
      shells," he stated his intention of adhering to her heart like a limpet to
      its native rock, or the teeth of a skate to the finger of a too-confiding
      fisherman. At the conclusion of the banquet a speech was called for, and
      old Grampus rose. He said:&mdash;"Fishmongers and Fellow-oystermen (hear,
      hear), to meat you here on this ausfishous occasion" [he lisped a bit
      after eating salmon] "eels the wounded spirit and warms the cockles of
      this heart. Star-fish and stingarees! May I be scolloped if this aint the
      proudest moment of my life!" (Cheers.) He proceeded to state his views on
      things in general&mdash;regretted that a more able speaker had not been
      chosen to offishiate&mdash;hoped they wouldn't expect along speech from
      him, as he wasn't a parson&mdash;in fact he understood more about the
      curing of herrings, than the cure of soles&mdash;and the only school he
      ever attended was a "school" of mackerel which appeared off the coast one
      Sunday morning when he was a boy at home. His father had on that occasion
      taken him by the hand, and together they attended that Sunday-school.
      Subsequent proceedings made such an impression on his mind that he
      henceforth resolved to become a fish-dealer, and became one accordingly.
      He had read his Bible, and had heard about the "miraculous draught of
      fishes"&mdash;thought it must have been a brandy-p(r)awnee&mdash;always
      thought fish were something to eat before, though lie had known fishermen
      drink their whole week's catch on Saturday night&mdash;was a sober man
      himself, and didn't go in for mackarelous "draughts" of that kind. If not
      a religious man, he always strove to do his duty! Though he had been a
      fisherman in his time, he had never been a plaice hunter, and, Ecod! he
      thought few M.P's. could say that. What were his religious principles?
      Well, he wasn't a mussle-man, and though he dealt, in shell-fish, he
      abhorred shellfishness. He had heard about some all-fired heathens who
      worshipped Zorooyster (? Zoroaster); he couldn't say as he was acquainted
      with that mollusc, and wouldn't worship him if he were. Oysters was good
      things if you didn't put brandy a top of 'em, and he believed in cockles
      (the molluscs, not the pills), but worship a hoyster! Thank'eaven, he
      wasn't so far gone as that! Such ideas was incongerous.
    </p>
    <p>
      He sat down amid applause, and musical and terpsichorean festivities
      commenced. Somebody danced the fishmongers' hornpipe. "Sets" were formed,
      and the (s)caly-donians gone through with great spirit. A gloomy-looking
      fish-dealer, with a bass voice, sang "My sole is dark and a
      blighted-looking young oyster-opener gave them, "Shells of the Ocean," and
      "Oh, shell we never part," alluding to the monotony of his occupation.
      Young Codlington sang "(T)winkle, (t)winkle, little Star-fish" with great
      taste and feeling. Fun and frolic became general, and it was late ere the
      (r)oysterers returned home, thoroughly wearied, but happy.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE WHEELWRIGHTS' PIC-NIC.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE man who cannot
      sympathize with a wheelwright in his joys and sorrows ought to be treated
      to a taste of lynch (or lynch-pin) law. No one with a properly regulated
      mind can fail to admire their round-about way of doing things, and their
      untiring energy; and no rightly thinking person could be otherwise than
      rejoiced on hearing the other day that these jolly good felleys had made
      up their minds to have a trundle down the harbour, and an afternoon's
      enjoyment Of course the party started from the Circular Quay, and took
      with them a plentiful supply of weal and ham pies and roly-poly puddings.
      They reached their destination in safety, and after a short walk along the
      beach, the order was given to "right-wheel," and they found themselves in
      a delightful glade, where the blue gum waved its giant branches in the
      summer air, and the luxuriant axel-tree cast a grateful shade over the
      holiday-keepers.
    </p>
    <p>
      The ladies&mdash;with complexions of a smoothness only to be attained by
      sand-paper in experienced hands&mdash;looked as fresh as paint, and shone
      like varnish. They were at tired, in elegant and becoming costumes. Spokes
      was nearly missing the affair altogether, as he woke late, and then had to
      dress, wash, and (spoke)-shave himself in a hurry. Old Wheels&mdash;and a
      wideawake old fly-wheel he was&mdash;drove down in his buggy with Mrs.
      Wheels and the four Miss Wheels, and, what with the front and hind wheels
      of the trap, the wheals inflicted by the avenging hand of Old Wheels on
      the horse's behind, and the young Wheels&mdash;segments of the parent
      Wheels&mdash;clinging on wherever they could get hand or foot-hold, it was
      estimated that there couldn't have been less than sixty or seventy wheels
      to the turn-out. Talking of traps, the four Miss Wheels constituted a
      four-wheeled trap for the hearts of men of a most dangerous description;
      and, after they had all partaken plentifully of the weal pies, there was
      weal within Wheels, and a complicated state of things which set
      mathematical and digestive theories at defiance.
    </p>
    <p>
      Old Wheels delivered an address, in which he stated that a bond of unity
      was the best tire for the public weal, and that if the felleys in the
      House wern't such a lot of (k)naves, they'd run truer, stick closer
      together, and endeavour to axelerate public business more than they did.
      He was proceeding to demonstrate that &mdash;&mdash;&mdash; was no more
      use in the House than the "fifth wheel of a coach," when one of the
      younger Wheels began to squeak in an agonizing manner. It was immediately
      greased with some strawberrys and cream, and its (s)creams subsided into
      chuckles of gratification. Dancing, of the "turnabout, and wheel-about,
      and jump Jim Crow" order, then commenced, and kiss-in-the-ring, rounders,
      and other circular amusements, became general. A musical young
      wheelwright, on being called on for a song, suspended his occupation of
      picking his teeth with a lynch-pin, and gave them "Weel may the keel row,"
      and Axelcior." Spokes proved himself a capital speaker, and made the
      speech of the day, full of beautifully rounded sentences and quotations
      from Spokeshave. But all things must have an end unfortunately, and when
      at length the whistle of the steam-boat sounded for departure, the
      wheelwrights took their way homeward, happy, but thoroughly tired.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE UNDERTAKER'S PIC-NIC.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>E have a special
      regard for undertakers. Watching funerals was the first species of
      dissipation we indulged in in early youth. We have witnessed Shakesperian
      tragedies since with less satisfaction, and have respected undertakers
      proportionately in consequence. But for them we should never have known
      how much of the latent spirit of tragedy there is in horses' tails and
      feathers, and we especially admire the dramatic style in which they
      proclaim to the world the fact that another saint has gone to occupy his
      reserved seat in the celestial dress circle, or another sinner sneaked
      into his place in that "pit" which is notoriously bottomless, and where
      the free-list is by no means "confined to gentlemen of the Press."
    </p>
    <p>
      Holding these views, we were naturally pleased to hear that our friends
      meditated a pic-nic, and we are still more gratified to be able to lay
      before the public the only reliable report of the proceedings in
      existence. The day was everything that could be desired. Huge masses of
      black cloud lay piled away to the south'ard, imparting a sombre and
      funereal aspect to everything, and the spirits of the excursionists rose
      in proportion. The picturesque cemetery of Haslem's Creek was the spot
      chosen for the celebration of the festivities, and the cheerful recesses
      of its cypress-shaded labyrinths that day re-echoed outbursts of merriment
      which must have been particularly trying to misanthropic ghosts. Every
      available hearse and mourning-coach was pressed into the service to convey
      the holiday-keepers to the mortuary railway station, from which a special
      train was to start at nine sharp, and the party in full gala costume&mdash;hat-bands,
      gloves, plumes and feathers&mdash;presented quite a lively appearance as
      the cortège moved down Brickfield Hill, the band playing "The dead march
      in Saul."
    </p>
    <p>
      Arrived at the scene of the intended festivities, a luxurious <i>al fresco</i>
      banquet was set forth, the numerous marble slabs in the vicinity making
      the most delightful substitutes for tables imaginable, and the epitaphs
      and inscriptions forming an agreeable mental repast after the grosser
      bodily appetites had been subdued.
    </p>
    <p>
      Messrs. Compagnoni, on this occasion, surpassed themselves, and the
      black-puddings, and other funereal delicacies&mdash;served on
      (brass)-plates&mdash;were decorated with "In memory of," "Requiescat in
      pace," and other appropriate mottoes calculated to raise the spirits of
      the party, and promote hilarity in the highest degree. Old Elmplank said
      he hadn't had such a lively time, or felt in such good spirits, since the
      measles were around that time three years. Meanwhile the young folks were:
      enjoying themselves, and fun and flirtation wore carried on in a decorous
      manner, out of respect to the emblems of mortality by which they were
      surrounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      An amiable young coffin-maker, with the most fascinating hearse-suit
      appendages, made great inroads on the heart of Miss Grace Bugles. He
      requested her to enter his heart, which he compared to an unoccupied tomb,
      and reside there rent free. Should love like his, he asked, be "coffined,
      cribbed, confined" within the narrow limits of a flannel waistcoat? No; he
      invited her to come to his arms, shroud herself in his bosom, and stop the
      process of cremation which was going on in his heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      Songs and recitations were in the programme. Miss Bugles sang "Those
      funeral bells," and "The old elm tree," and her admirer gave them a
      Bacchanalian, or rather a coffin-nailian ditty, with a chorus of "Bier,
      bier, beautiful bier," and a skull and thigh-bones accompaniment, which
      provoked thunders of applause; and when old Tassels, of the mourning
      livery-stables sang,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      "But one golden tress of her hair I'll twine
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      In my hearse's sable plume,"
    </p>
    <p>
      there was scarcely a dry eye in the assembly.
    </p>
    <p>
      There were no healths drunk, such a custom being considered out of
      character with the proceedings, and not conducive to the prosperity of
      business generally. Undertakers who were sociably disposed took each
      other's measures, composed epitaphs, and talked about cremation. Old
      Elmplank, in his speech, said that any allusion to such a mode of
      disposing of the dead wounded him to the quick. "Introduce that process,"
      he said, "and the whole romance of a funeral was done away with. The
      invention," he added, "was worthy of a cove as was mean enough to drink
      another cove's ealth." But even undertakers cannot keep up at the
      high-pressure pitch of hilarity for ever, and as evening drew on, the rain
      having been falling heavily for several hours, the cemetery was by common
      consent voted damp, and a general move was made for the railway station.
      The party returned to Sydney, well satisfied with their outing, and the
      number of colds caught must have made business lively for the next six
      months.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE HAIRDRESSERS' PIC-NIC.
    </h2>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>VEN barbers
      require change of (h)air occasionally; consequently there were no
      dissentient voices when Potts proposed an excursion, and suggested the
      Gap, where the "yesty waves" seem never to tire of their monotonous
      occupation of shampooing the South Head. The pic-nic took place eventually
      among the romantic glades in the immediate vicinity of Pearl (-powder)
      Bay, where the "maidenhair" (capillis veneris) grew luxuriantly&mdash;having
      been neither cut by the north-east wind, nor brushed by machinery&mdash;while
      the rabbit and false-hare frisked fearlessly among solitudes seldom
      disturbed by the presence of man, and that beautiful bird the
      antimacassowary flew with well-oiled pinions from branch to branch of the
      Eucalipsalve.
    </p>
    <p>
      It might be imagined by ignorant people that hairdressers, who pay so much
      attention to the adornment of the outward man, would be apt to forget the
      requirements of the inner entirely; this, however, was not the case,
      jugged hairs and barbercues being among the least of the delicacies
      provided.
    </p>
    <p>
      Of course there were speeches. That old demagogue&mdash;Bearsgrease,
      shampooed, no, pooh! poohed everything, everybody else. Being a wig-maker,
      it was natural that in politics he should be a Whig; and though, as he
      said, he had never appeared as a candidate for Parliamentary honors, or
      been at the head of an electioneering poll, he knew as much about heads
      and polls as some who had.
    </p>
    <p>
      But why enlarge on all this? Can we not imagine how young Potts led Miss
      Glycerina Crimpington for a stroll by the sounding sea, and directed her
      attention to the magnificent crests of the billows, fresh from the
      curling-tongs of Nature, tumbling over one another, and doubling
      themselves into such exquisite "frizettes" and "waterfalls" that they were
      enough to excite envy in the breast of any young lady, especially if she
      happened to be a hair-dresser's daughter.
    </p>
    <p>
      Can we not picture to ourselves the thousand and one incidents which go to
      make up what is called a pic-nic? How some were stricken hungry, and
      others sentimental; how some satisfied their cravings with kisses, others
      with pie; how Potts charmed the ear of his adored Crimpington with
      recitations from "Locksley Hall," and the "Hair of Redcliffe;" how the
      young folks danced the Kalydorians (arranged by Rowlands); and last, not
      least, how the old folks got maudlin on limejuice and glycerine, and
      talked of the days when their feet were as light, and their chevleures as
      heavy as those of any young scalp-lock trimmer present We can, I think,
      imagine all this so it will not be necessary to say more than that the
      whole thing was a thorough success, especially Potts's song of "(H)airy
      spirts round us hover," with a comb accompaniment, after which a general
      stampede was made for the boats.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      THE GREAT CRICKET MATCH.
    </h2>
    <h3>
      BREWERS v. PUBLICANS.
    </h3>
    <p class="indent10">
      The day was wet, down poured the rain
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      In torrents from the sky;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Great coats, umbrellas, were in vain,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      But every lip was dry.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The clouds seemed disinclined to part,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The wind was from the <i>West</i>,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Yet worked each brewer's manly heart
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Like (y) <i>east</i> within his breast.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Along the road each brewer spent
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      His coin in frequent drains,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      F or mere external moisture went
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Against those brewers' <i>grains</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And with a bright triumphant flush,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Their Captain, Mr. Staves,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Swore they should crush those sons of lush
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Who dealt in "tidal-waves"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
          * Tidal-wave&mdash;a large glass of colonial beer.
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      For, speaking of the L. V. A.,*
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The brewers said, and laughed,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "A most efficient team were they
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For purposes of draught."
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      'Twas thus they talked upon the way
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Until they reached the ground;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But in their friends the L. V. A.,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Rum customers they found.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I havn't space to speak of all
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The glories of the match&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of every well-delivered ball,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And every well-caught catch.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I fain would tell of Mr. Keggs
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      (They spiled and bunged his eye)
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Barley-corn, and how his legs
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Got twisted all a rye;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      How Stoups, the umpire, stood too near,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And came to grief and harm;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      How, when he fell they gave him beer,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Which acted like a barm;
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
         * Licensed Victuallers' Association.
</pre>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Hope, who keeps the Anchor bar
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And vendeth flowing bowls
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      (My feet have often been that far
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And anchored fast their soles)
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Mark how he bustles, snorts, and spits&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      His brow he mops and wipes,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And though I couldn't praise his hits,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      I'll gladly praise his "swipes;"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Corks, who funked the second ball,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And by a sudden turn
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Received the straightest one of all
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Upon his ample stern.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He raised a loud and fearful roar&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      With fury he was blind,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And, though they called it "leg-before"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      He felt it most behind!
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Of Marks, the scorer&mdash;best of men!
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Sure everybody talks;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He chalked the runs correctly when
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      He couldn't walk his chalks.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Despite the flasks of monstrous size
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      He'd emptied to the dregs,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      He scored "wides," "overthrows," "leg-byes,"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And runs attained by legs.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For all the ceaseless rain which flows,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The rival teams care naught;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Though runs were made by many a nose,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And many a cold was caught.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Inside and out they all got wet&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Each drank what he could hold;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      I'm sure a bowl was overset
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      For every over bowled.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      The daylight fails; at length 'tis gone:
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      There's little left to tell;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      For as the shades of eve drew on
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The stumps were drawn as well.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Then to the tent each man resorts:
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      On food intent were they.
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Who won the sports? the pints and quarts&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The gallant L. V. A.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      Beneath the canvas let us pass&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      Old Bottle-brush was there,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      And well he filled his empty glass,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And well he filled the "chair."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      At length the Maltsters cleared the tent,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And several hops ensued;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      But stay! Both time and space are spent&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      In truth, I must conclude.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      A vict'ler rose amid the host&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      A burly man was he&mdash;
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "My lads," he said, "I'll give a toast,
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And here's my toast d'ye see:
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "John Barley-corn, the king of seeds!"
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      And round the glasses go,
    </p>
    <p class="indent10">
      "For that's a corn that ne'er impedes
    </p>
    <p class="indent15">
      The light fantastic toe!"
    </p>
    <p>
      <br />
    </p>
    <p class="pfirst">
      <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>F any reader has
      conscientiously borne with me even unto the end, he may be ready to
      exclaim&mdash;"But where are the 'Southerly Busters?' No allusion to them
      except in the title and frontispiece. It's been a dead calm all the way."
    </p>
    <p>
      Gentlest of a proverbially gentle class, what you say is perfectly true;
      but I have excellent precedent for this inconsistency. No one, not even an
      evangelical parson, sticks to his text now-a-days; and the gentleman who
      objected to being told "in mournful numbers" that "things are not what
      they seem," was a self-deceiving visionary who wanted to close his eyes to
      what everyone else knows to be an established fact. An M.P.'s speech on
      free trade seldom alludes to the subject; the daring feats and marvellous
      situations depicted outside a circus are never seen inside; light
      literature, advertised as such, is proverbially heavy; &mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;'s
      "Vermin Destroyer" has rather a nutritious and invigorating effect on
      vermin than otherwise, according to my experience; Young's "Night
      Thoughts" were written in broad day-light; and few can have failed to
      remark the absence of pork and the presence of cat in a restaurant
      pork-sausage.
    </p>
    <p>
      The author of the most confused piece of literary mechanism that ever was
      printed, calls it "Bradshaw's Guide."
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0056" id="linkimage-0056"> </a>
    </p>
    <div class="fig" style="width:65%;">
      <img src="images/230m.jpg" alt="230m " width="100%" /><br />
    </div>
    <h4>
      <a href="images/230.jpg"><i>Original</i></a>
    </h4>
    <p>
      Did it ever guide anyone anywhere except to outer darkness? Did it ever
      awaken any other feeling in the bosom of a deluded traveller than a thirst
      for revenge? Bradshaw merely followed the universal rule of contraries
      when he christened his mystifying treatise a "guide," for none knew better
      than he that "throwing a light on a subject" means involving it in gloom
      and obscurity, as surely as that "just one glass more, and then straight
      home," means twenty, and the most circuitous route the neighbourhood will
      admit of. I trust I have said enough to vindicate the somewhat obscure and
      deceptive title of this book; or, at any rate, to avert the worst
      catastrophe an author can dread&mdash;that of being blown to atoms by a
      Southerly Buster of Public Opinion.
    </p>
    <div style="height: 6em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>

<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45391 ***</div>
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