TALES OF THE SHEDS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2686, 6 September 1905, Page 71

TALES OF THE SHEDS.

THE LUCKY SHEARER. The scene was on Monaro, 'twas a shearer leaving home To earn an honest living, he was forced ones nioTe to roam. His little child was in his aims, his wife closa by ins side, And as he kissed his baby bey to sooth h^s wife he tried. "You know, my love, the times are hard, I must go out this year, And leave you and little Jack in the home I love so dear. There is wood to last till I return, a spring close by the door ; You also have a pound or two, and credit at the store; "So, cheer up, pretty Rosie, smile on me once again, For i have miles to travel o'er mountain, swamp, and plain.' One last embrace, — he turns aw?y, then mounts his favourite hack. And whistles up the pony that is laden with the pack. Day after day he battles on along a hungry track, To reach the pen he has secured in a Darling shed out back. His horses get leg-weary, and grass he cannot find, Which grieves that shearei's manly heart — a heart both true and kind. When two days' stage pas.t Ivanhoe, in spite of prayers to heaven, That struggling shearer lost his nags, out back in Ninety-seven. He hung his saddle on a tree, where from his nags he parted, And with a heavy, aching heart and a swag he once more started. We find him next at Henley, where he was going to shear; And he reckons humping bluey knocks a fellow out of gear. The roll is called, the pens are drawn, the cook is voted in. And to get their tongs in order the shearers now begin Our shearer is light-heartea now, and rings that good old shed, For very few can pace with him, and man}' a team he's led. He takes a ticket in Tatts.' sweep, then sent it home to Rose, And told her when she wrote again, he'd be at Big Melrose. The days, the weeks, and months go by; he is getting towards !\£bnaro. For we find him next near Gundagai, in a shed called Darbalaro ; And now the shearing is over, and with a joyous heart And a good cbequa in his pocket for his home he makes a start. He travels up through Tumut, then out past Peppercorn, And arrives in Cooma township on a bright December morn. With one more stage he reaches horne — the home he loves so well, Where Rosie anxiously awaits, some joyous news to tell. She had drawn a horse in Tattersall's— the news had come that day, 'Twas worth five thousand sovereigns, and luck was in her way, For gazing down the hillside she saw her little Jack Running, shouting "Mammy, dear, my daddy has come back." We miss a shearer from the ranks where once he used to shine ; He is now a homestead iessee on the banks of Riverine. — The Wanderer. Lyndhurst, August 14.