The Australian swag fashion is the easiest way in the world of carrying a load. I ought to know something about carrying loads: I’ve carried babies, which are the heaviest and most awkward and heartbreaking loads in this world for a boy or man to carry, I fancy. God remember mothers who slave about the […]

PROLOGUE Old Abel Albury had a genius for getting the bull by the tail with a tight grip, and holding on with both hands and an obstinacy born of ignorance–and not necessarily for the sake of self-preservation or selfishness–while all the time the bull might be, so to speak, rooting up life-long friendships and neighbourly […]

I SQUATTER AND SELECTOR Wall was a squatter and a hard man. There had been long years of drought and loss, and then came the rabbit pest–the rabbits swarmed like flies over his run, and cropped the ground bare where even the poor grass might have saved thousands of sheep–and the rabbits cost the squatter […]

There had been heavy rain and landslips all along the branch railway which left the Great Western Line from Sydney just beyond the Blue Mountains, and ran through thick bush and scrubby ridgy country and along great alluvial sidings–were the hills on the opposite side of the wide valleys (misty in depths) faded from deep […]

This is a sketch of one of the many ways in which a young married woman, who is naturally thick-skinned and selfish–as most women are–and who thinks she loves her husband, can spoil his life because he happens to be good-natured, generous, sensitive, weak or soft, whichever you like to call it. Johnson went out […]

Andy Maculloch had heard that old Bill Barker, the well-known overland drover, had died over on the Westralian side, and Dave Regan told a yarn about Bill. “Bill Barker,” said Dave, talking round his pipe stem, “was the quintessence of a drover–“ “The whatter, Dave?” came the voice of Jim Bentley, in startled tones, from […]

A RATHER FISHY YARN FROM THE BUSH (AS TOLD BY JAMES NOWLETT, BULLOCK-DRIVER) You might work this yarn up. I’ve often thought of doin’ it meself, but I ain’t got the words. I knowed a lot of funny an’ rum yarns about the bush, an’ I often wished I had the gift o’ writin’. I […]

God’s preacher, of churches unheeded, God’s vineyard, though barren the sod, Plain spokesman where spokesman is needed, Rough link ‘twixt the Bushman and God. The Christ of the Never. TOLD BY JOE WILSON I never told you about Peter M’Laughlan. He was a sort of bush missionary up-country and out back in Australia, and before […]

By his paths through the parched desolation, Hot rides and the terrible tramps; By the hunger, the thirst, the privation Of his work in the furthermost camps; By his worth in the light that shall search men And prove–ay! and justify each– I place him in front of all Churchmen Who feel not, who know […]

Did you ever trace back your Christmas days?–right back to the days when you were innocent and Santa Claus was real. At times you thought you were very wicked, but you never realize how innocent you were until you’ve grown up and knocked about the world. Let me think! Christmas in an English village, with […]

Old Mate! In the gusty old weather, When our hopes and our troubles were new, In the years spent in wearing out leather, I found you unselfish and true — I have gathered these verses together For the sake of our friendship and you. You may think for awhile, and with reason, Though still with […]

The world is narrow and ways are short, and our lives are dull and slow, For little is new where the crowds resort, and less where the wanderers go; Greater, or smaller, the same old things we see by the dull road-side — And tired of all is the spirit that sings of the days […]

They lie, the men who tell us in a loud decisive tone That want is here a stranger, and that misery’s unknown; For where the nearest suburb and the city proper meet My window-sill is level with the faces in the street — Drifting past, drifting past, To the beat of weary feet — While […]

The night too quickly passes And we are growing old, So let us fill our glasses And toast the Days of Gold; When finds of wondrous treasure Set all the South ablaze, And you and I were faithful mates All through the roaring days! Then stately ships came sailing From every harbour’s mouth, And sought […]

It is stuffy in the steerage where the second-classers sleep, For there’s near a hundred for’ard, and they’re stowed away like sheep, — They are trav’lers for the most part in a straight ‘n’ honest path; But their linen’s rather scanty, an’ there isn’t any bath — Stowed away like ewes and wethers that is […]

The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought, The cheque was spent that the shearer earned, and the sheds were all cut out; The publican’s words were short and few, and the publican’s looks were black — And the time had come, as the shearer knew, to carry his […]

I met her on the Lachlan Side — A darling girl I thought her, And ere I left I swore I’d win The free-selector’s daughter. I milked her father’s cows a month, I brought the wood and water, I mended all the broken fence, Before I won the daughter. I listened to her father’s yarns, […]

When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet, And across the distant timber you can SEE the flowing heat; When your head is hot and aching, and the shadeless plain is wide, And it’s fifteen miles to water in the scrub the other side — Don’t give up, don’t be down-hearted, to […]

Our Andy’s gone to battle now ‘Gainst Drought, the red marauder; Our Andy’s gone with cattle now Across the Queensland border. He’s left us in dejection now; Our hearts with him are roving. It’s dull on this selection now, Since Andy went a-droving. Who now shall wear the cheerful face In times when things are […]

It chanced upon the very day we’d got the shearing done, A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o’-Sunday Run; He had a round and jolly face, and he was sleek and stout, He drove right up between the huts and called the super out. We chaps were smoking after tea, and heard the swell […]