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Banjo Paterson - The Passing of Gundagai
Work rating: Low

"I`ll introduce a friend!" he said,
"And if you`ve got a vacant pen
You`d better take him in the shed
And start him shearing straight ahead;
He`s one of these here quiet men.

"He never strikes — that ain`t his game;
No matter what the others try
He goes on shearing just the same.
I never rightly knew his name —
We always call him `Gundagai!`"

Our flashest shearer then had gone
To train a racehorse for a race;
And, while his sporting fit was on
He couldn`t be relied upon,
So Gundagai shore in his place.

Alas for man`s veracity!
For reputations false and true!
This Gundagai turned out to be
For strife and all-round villainy
The very worst I ever knew!

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 pack-horse 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`s "had a cut at Gundagai!"

But, just as we were getting full
Of Gundagai and all his ways,
A telgram 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 siad,
"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".
Source
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