What is meant by active service 'Ere where sin is leakin' loose, 'N' the oldest 'and's as nervis As a dog-bedevilled goose, Has bin writ be every poet What can rhyme it worth a dam, But the 'orror as we know it Is jist jam, jam,
AM
Oh, t...
UT OF
CK, mate
Have a liquor
Hang it, where’s the use complaining
Once in a blue eternity they gave us dabs of rum To close the seams 'n' keep the flume in liquor-tight condition;
But, soft 'n' sentimental, when the long, cold evenin's come,
I'd dream me nibs was dronking' to the height of his ambition...
‘I’M
FF on the wallaby
’ cries Old Ben, And his pipe is lit, and his swag is rolled;‘There is nothing here for us old-time men, But up north,
I hear, they are on the gold
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,
He knew nex' to holy nothin' through the gor- forsaken...
The boarder in the bar-room rose, A pale gaunt man who lodged with Hann,“I bear,” he said, “the worst of woes,
And suffer torments no one knows, For do my best I never can Have sleep like any other man
“I have insomnia,” said he
“At...
In days before the trouble Jo was rated as a slob
He chose to sit in hourly expectation of a job
He'd loop hisself upon a post, for seldom friends had he,
A gift of patient waitin' his distinctif quality
NG the swamp and the tangled scrub, Tramping and turning amidst the trees,
Carrying nothing but blankets and grub, Careless of pleasure and health and ease,
Hither and thither with never a goal, Heavy, and solemn, and stiff, and slow,
It is thirty moons since I slung me hook From the job at the hay and corn,
Took me solemn oath, 'n' I straight forsook All the ways of life, dinkum ways 'n' crook, 'N' the things on which it was good to look Since the day when a bloke was bor...
We were challenged by The Dingoes — they're the pride of Squatter's Gap—To a friendly game of football on the flat by Devil's Trap
And we went along on horses, sworn to triumph in the game,
For the honour of Gyp's Diggings, and the glory...
Back again 'n' nothin' missin' barrin' arf a hand,
Where an Abdul bit me, chokin' in the Holy Land
'Struth, they got some dirty fighters in the Moslem pack,
Bull-nosed slugs their sneakin' snipers spat ters in yer back Blows a gapin...
UT of work and out of money—out of friends that means, you bet—Out of firewood, togs and tucker, out of everything but debt—And I loathe the barren pavements, and the crowds a fellow meets,
And the maddening repetition of the suffocating stre...