Part 13

He started racing Jack Devine, And grumbled when I made him stop. The pace he showed was extra fine, But all those pure-bred ewes of mine Were bleeding like a butcher's shop.

He cursed the sheep, he cursed the shed, From roof to rafter, floor to shelf; As for my mongrel ewes, he said, I ought to get a razor blade And shave the blooming things myself.

On Sundays he controlled a 'school', And played 'two-up' the livelong day; And many a young confiding fool He shore of his financial wool; And when he lost he would not pay.

He organised a shearers' race, And 'touched' me to provide the prize. His packhorse showed surprising pace And won hands down -- he was The Ace, A well-known racehorse in disguise.

Next day the bruiser of the shed Displayed an opal-tinted eye, With large contusions on his head. He smiled a sickly smile, and said He'd 'had a cut at "Gundagai"!'

But just as we were getting full Of 'Gundagai' and all his ways, A telegram for 'Henry Bull' Arrived. Said he, 'That's me -- all wool! Let's see what this here message says.'

He opened it, his face grew white, He dropped the shears and turned away. It ran, 'Your wife took bad last night; Come home at once -- no time to write, We fear she may not last the day.'

He got his cheque -- I didn't care To dock him for my mangled ewes; His store account -- we 'called it square'. Poor wretch! he had enough to bear, Confronted by such dreadful news.

The shearers raised a little purse To help a mate, as shearers will, 'To pay the doctor and the nurse, And if there should be something worse -- To pay the undertaker's bill.'

They wrung his hand in sympathy, He rode away without a word, His head hung down in misery. A wandering hawker passing by Was told of what had just occurred.

'Well! that's a curious thing,' he said, 'I've known that feller all his life -- He's had the loan of this here shed! I know his wife ain't nearly dead, Because he HASN'T GOT A WIFE!'

. . . . .

You should have heard the whipcord crack As angry shearers galloped by, In vain they tried to fetch him back. A little dust along the track Was all they saw of 'Gundagai'.

The Wargeilah Handicap

Wargeilah town is very small, There's no cathedral nor a club, In fact the township, all in all, Is just one unpretentious pub; And there, from all the stations round, The local sportsmen can be found.

The sportsmen of Wargeilah side Are very few but very fit: There's scarcely any sport been tried But what they held their own at it In fact, to search their records o'er, They held their own and something more.

'Twas round about Wargeilah town An English new-chum did infest: He used to wander up and down In baggy English breeches drest -- His mental aspect seemed to be Just stolid self-sufficiency.

The local sportsmen vainly sought His tranquil calm to counteract, By urging that he should be brought Within the Noxious Creatures Act. 'Nay, harm him not,' said one more wise, 'He is a blessing in disguise!

'You see, he wants to buy a horse, To ride, and hunt, and steeplechase, And carry ladies, too, of course, And pull a cart and win a race. Good gracious! he must be a flat To think he'll get a horse like that!

'But since he has so little sense And such a lot of cash to burn, We'll sell him some experience By which alone a fool can learn. Suppose we let him have The Trap To win Wargeilah Handicap!'

And here, I must explain to you That, round about Wargeilah run, There lived a very aged screw Whose days of brilliancy were done: A grand old warrior in his prime -- But age will beat us all in time.

A trooper's horse in seasons past He did his share to keep the peace, But took to falling, and at last Was cast for age from the Police. A publican at Conroy's Gap Then bought and christened him The Trap.

When grass was good, and horses dear, He changed his owner now and then At prices ranging somewhere near The neighbourhood of two pound ten: And manfully he earned his keep By yarding cows and ration sheep.

They brought him in from off the grass And fed and groomed the old horse up; His coat began to shine like glass -- You'd think he'd win the Melbourne Cup. And when they'd got him fat and flash They asked the new-chum -- fifty -- cash!

And when he said the price was high, Their indignation knew no bounds. They said, 'It's seldom you can buy A horse like that for fifty pounds! We'll refund twenty if The Trap Should fail to win the handicap!'

The deed was done, the price was paid, The new-chum put the horse in train: The local sports were much afraid That he would sad experience gain, By racing with some shearer's hack, Who'd beat him half-way round the track.

So, on this guileless English spark They did most fervently impress That he must keep the matter dark, And not let any person guess That he was purchasing The Trap To win Wargeilah Handicap.

They spoke of 'spielers from The Bland', And 'champions from the Castlereagh', And gave the youth to understand That all of these would stop away, And spoil the race, if they should hear That they had got The Trap to fear.