The Australian Alphabet

Words:  Unknown
Tune:  John Thompson (A variation on Flash Jack From Gundagai)






A is for Australia, the land in which we are;
B is for the bush, my boys, which stretches near and far;
C is for the cattle which we are paid to mind
D is for the dingo, a treacherous brute you'll find.

CHORUS:
So, my Australian brothers, I hope that you will see
Signs of the times in our A B C.

E is for the eagle hawk, which plays havoc with our flocks;
F is for that little wretch - I mean the flying fox;
G is for the gray-flyer, a kind of kangaroo;
H is for the horse, my boys, we all have one or two.

I is for the iguana, which we never catch asleep;
J is for the jumbuck, colonial slang for sheep;
K is for the kangaroo, of which we have a host;
L is for the lyre-bird, the pheasant of the coast.

M is for the morepork, a very curious bird;
N is for the native, as curious as absurd;
O is for that little wretch -  I mean the opossum;
P stands for the public0house, where we do get bad rum.

Q is for Quirindi, where lives Mr Hope;
R stands for his rations, and S stands for his soap;
And of the netx letter I'd have you all beware,
For if you drink too much of it you'll spoil your nerves, I fear.

U is for all of you sitting here about;
V is for our voics, with which we raise a shout;
W is for our whips -  Oh! what a crack they make;
X is for the excitement, when a beast begins to break.

Y it is, and how it is, we are so very wise,
Has always been to me a matter of great surprise;
And as I'm not just now prepared to find a rhyme for Z,
I think we'll go into the bar, and have a nip instead.



Another from The Queenslander, via the Hurd Collection, this one ... "Supplied by A.M., Gayndah".

The Hurd Collection of clippings held at the State Library of Queensland includes a selection from the Songs of the Bush series which appeared in the late nineteenth century as part of the Flotsam and Jetsam column.

The clippings include this note:

Some correspondents who have been kind enough to respond to our request for contributions to this column have formed a wrong impression of the scope of the undertaking and have sent in bush poems - good enough in their way, but not what are wanted.  We ask only for bush songs - songs that are sung every day by the camp fire and in the hut but to familiar airs.  We fully appreciate the industry of those who have set themselves to compose songs since the first notice appeared, but we want only old ditties, such as "The Overlander" or "The Drover". ..




The illustration to this post is the cover of an unrelated book published in Melbourne by Valentine and Sons in 1915.

Mustering Day

Words:  Unknown
Tune:  So Early In The Morning




Old master came to the old hut door
And said, as he'd often said before
"Tomorrow is mustering day
So rouse up, boys and get away"

The morning stars began to rise
As we got up and robbed our eyes
Our horses we quickly manned
And started off with whip in hand.

We met a mob not far away,
Started back without delay;
An old white cow ran off the track,
Old master went to fetch her back.

The mare he rode was rather free,
Ran poor master against a tree,
Threw him off upon his head,
Broke his neck and killed him dead.

Next morning I went to catch a horse
To help to bury poor master's horse
And in that most uncertain light
I got a most tremendous fright

For there I saw old master's ghost
Sitting on top of the stockyard post
Smoking the same old clay
That master smoked on mustering day

Where'er I roam, wheree'er I stray
May I never forget that mustering day
For then I saw old master's ghost
Sitting on top of the stockyard post.


From the Hurd Collection (Clippings from The Queenslander  held in the State Library of Queensland).

The illustration to this post is a photograph of Mr and Mrs RS Hurd "taken at Oskeid, 1920"

Roma Downs

Words:  Unknown
Tune:  So Early in the Morning



Roma's Queen of the Western Downs
And hard by it is Roma Downs
A station fit for any King
And loud the boys its praises sing.

With game it is abounding
With game it is abounding

With game it is abounding

Perhaps you'd like to shoot.

A winding stream they call Blythe Creek

Provides fresh water for the sheep

With hook and line and bully frog

There you may catch a nice big cod

Shoals of fish are swimming

Shoals of fish are swimming

Shoals of fish are swimming
Try and catch a few

On the plains sometimes are dingoes found,
By the boundary-men as they make their round,
The boss he swears they kill the sheep
And to have their lives he'd lost his sleep.

Poison for the dingoes
Poison for the dingoes

Poison for the dingoes

Strychnines just the thing

The Horseshoe Bend's well known to fame

For big pot-shots at feathered game

At no other spot on all the run

Can there be had such whips of fun.

Big pot-shots for ever

Big pot-shots for ever

Big pot-shots for ever

Whips of fun for me.


Another from the Hurd Collection via Ron Edwards.

Roma Downs was the station owned by Charles and Horatio Flower, Charles being the author of The Broken Down Squatter.

The illustration to this post is of boys swimming in Lockyer Creek, Gatton.

The Blooming Queensland Side.

Unknown.



Oh, come with me, my pretty girl, now come away with me,
I'll take you o'er the borders and we'll leave this colony,
Come away, my heart's desire, my darling and my pride,
And I'll treat you like a lady, love, on the blooming Queensland side.

Victoria's going to the bad, this bullocky cannot live;
The price of cartage comes so low, the squatters nothing to give.
There's a railway in every corner, you can meet them at every stride,
So we'll away in the morning to the blooming Queensland side.

So have your things in readiness at the breaking of the day,
I'll take you to the parson, love, and the words o'er us he'll say.
When he has tied us two together with a knot that can't be untied,
Then we'll away in the morning to the blooming Queensland side.

WOMAN
I would like to know if you've been true, I would like to know that same,
You bullockies are such knowing chaps, you are up to every game.
Perhaps, with some young dashing bell a-walking by your side
You've been doing a little killing on the bloom Queensland side.

MAN
If old Whitefoot in the pole could speak, I bet he'd answer "No",
I always have been true to you wherever I did go.
And if I now prove false to you may the grave my body hide,
And I'll never set foot again on the blooming Queensland side.

WOMAN
I know my bullocky is true — was always always true to me,
I only wanted to try you and hear what you would say.
Then I will be a constant wife until death us divide,
Then you can marry the prettiest girl on the blooming Queensland side.

MAN
I'll teach you my darling, a damper how to bake,
Fry chops in the morning, and cook a brownie cake,
And on top of my wagon so gaily you will ride,
They will think you're Queen Victoria a-going for a drive.

It's over the pole each night we'll cast the canvas down,
And underneath its spreading folds we'll sleep both safe and sound,
The cold will never trouble you, for the weather is always mild,
And the summer breezes gently blow on the blooming Queensland side.

When over in Queensland you are arrived at home,
It's up and down the Condamine of an evening you can roam,
Enjoy yourself to your heart's content and cast dull care aside,
For you'll be the happiest bullocky's wife on the blooming Queensland side.


Another Australian variation on The Banks of the Nile.

The illustration to this post is a photograph from Lismore entitled Old Bullocky, 1890.