Ben Bowyang spluttered with rage suppressed, 'Hi, there!' And his brow was black,
As two by two and three by three the tourists left the track,
Climbing the fence to his 'tater' patch, and down thro' his orchard
I walked out with an alderman, all on a bright spring day.
He was an august alderman, and much had he to say
Of roads and drains and bridges .... Then, as he pulled up short,
His veins stood out in ridges, his breath fled with a snort.
Men of the sea (said Bones, A.B.)
Is touchy coves and curious,
They stands a lot, till some dark plot
Gets 'em all hot an' furious.
Bright young thing: Thou on the beaches
Life is gay and pleasure laden
All in vain the law beseeches
Courtesy from man and maiden
Where have the old accorjins gone?
I was askin' the coves at the Show;
Matt from the Mallee an' Dandenong Don,
An' a score of the fellers I know
Knockin' about (said Benny, the Tough)
By the Rocks an' Woolloomooloo,
Oh, I was a low-brow, right enough,
And a bit of a bounder, too.
A new chum went, to ease his care,
A-many years ago,
To loiter round Toolangi where
The stately blue gums grow.
Let's have a tiny little bush fire.
It's a cold, cold night tonight.
We are sick of this long session
Of the darkness of depression.
At the risk of seeming silly,
I would ask you, 'Where is Billy?'
Here's a crisis, here's a fight,
And he's missing. Strike a light!