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Banjo Paterson - Santa Claus in the Bush
Work rating: Low

It chanced out back at the Christmas time,
When the wheat was ripe and tall,
A stranger rode to the farmer`s gate —
A sturdy man and a small.

Ruin down, run down, my little son Jack,
And bid the stranger stay;
And we`ll have a crack for Auld Lang Syne,
For tomorrow  is Christmas Day."

"Nay now, nay now," said the dour gude wife,
"But ye should let him be;
He`s maybe only a drover chap
From the land o` the Darling Pea.

"Wi` a drover`s tales, and a drover`s thirst
To swiggle the hail night through;
Or he`s maybe a life assurance carle
To talk ye black and blue,"

"Gude wife, he`s never a drover chap,
For their swags are neat and thin;
And he`s never a life assurance carle,
Wi` the brick-dust burnt in his skin.

"Gude wife, gude wife, be not so dour,
For the wheat stands ripe and tall,
And we shore wi’ a seven-pound fleece this year,
Ewes and weaners and all.

"There is grass to spare, and the stock are fat.
Where they whiles are gaunt and thin,
And we owe a tithe to the travelling poor,
So we must ask him in.

"You can set him a chair to the table side,
And give him a bite to eat;
An omelette made of a new-laid egg,
Or a tasty piece of meat."

"But the native cats have taken the fowls,
They have na’ left a leg;
And he`ll get no omelette at all
Till the emu lays an egg!"

"Run down, run down”, my little son Jack,
To where the emus bide,
Ye shall find the auld hen on the nest,
While the old cock sits beside.

"But speak them fair, and speak them soft,
Lest they kick ye a fearsome jolt.
Ye can give them a feed of the half-inch nails
Or a rusty carriage bolt."

So little son Jack ran blithely down
With the rusty nails in hand,
Till he came where the emus fluffed and scratched
By their nest in the open sand.

And there he has gathered the new-laid egg —
Would feed three men or four —
And the emus came for the half-inch nails
Right up to the settler`s door.

"A waste o` food," said the dour gude wife,
As she took the egg, with a frown,
"But he gets no meat, unless ye run
A paddy-melon down."

"Gae oot, gae oot, my little son Jack,
Wi` your twa-three doggies small;
Gin ye come nae back wi` a paddy-melon,
Then come nae back at all."

So little son Jack he raced and he ran,
And he was bare o` the feet,
And soon he captured a paddy-melon,
Was gorged with the stolen wheat.

"Sit down, sit down, my bonny wee man,
To the best that the house can do —
An omelette made of the emu egg
And a paddy-melon stew."

"`Tis well, `tis well," said the bonny wee man;
"I have eaten the wide world`s meat,
And the food that is given with right good-will
Is the sweetest food to eat.

"But the night draws on to the Christmas Day
And I must rise and go,
For I have a mighty way to ride
To the land of the Esquimaux.

"And it`s there I must load my sledges up,
With the reindeers four-in-hand,
That go to the North, South, East, and West,
To every Christian land."

"To the Esquimaux," said the dour guid wife,
"Ye suit my husband well!"
For when he gets up on his journey horse
He`s a bit of a liar himsel`."

Then out with a laugh went the bonny wee man
To his old horse grazing nigh,
And away like a meteor flash they went
Far off to the Northern sky.

When the children woke on the Christmas morn
They chattered with might and main —
For a sword and gun had little son Jack,
And a braw new doll had Jane,
And a packet o` screws had the twa emus;
But the dour gude wife gat nane.
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