There's a fresh track down the paddock Through the lightwoods to the creek, And I notice Billy Craddock And Maloney do not speak, And The Snag is slyly bitter When he's criticising Bill,...
He came from tumbled country past the humps of Buffalo Where the snow sits on the mountain 'n' the Summer aches below. He'd a silly name like Archie. Squattin' sullen on the ship,...
'Hello! that's the whistle, be moving. Wake up! don't lie muttering there. What language! your style is improving, It's pleasant to hear you at prayer. Turn out, man, and spare us the blessing....
My hut is built of stringy-bark, the window's calico, The furniture a gin-case, one bush-table, and a bunk; Thick as wheat on my selection does the towering timber grow,...