Deah Ladies, Let me wawn you, theah are feahful… And a mos’ ter-ific strugge is at… And we have no taime to speah If we wish to do ouah sheah

My son! . . . Them words, jist li… Is singin’ in me ‘eart the ’ole da… Over an’ over; while I’m scared I… Out of a dream, to find it all a f… My son! Two little words, that, y…

Hawkins wasn’t in the swim at all… And to bait him was our chiefest f… But, in justice, be it said that h… (That’s why I’m standing here and… He was trav’ling for a company, in…

‘It’s dogged as does it.' They’v… A motto to hold in that tight litt… To hold in their fighting and toil… And stick to the job with a tight… As fortune seems bleakest they cut…

Spring is a flirt. Unexpectedly… Over the shoulder of some far blue… We glimpse the blue eyes of her, s… We hold out our hands to her, all… A bloom in her lips, for a moment…

Righto! I’ll give the game a go. They say I should be circumspect;… I’ll bang The cows in slang . .

‘E passes by, each day, at ten A bottle-shouldered yid Wot looks as if ’e pushed a pen An’ drawes a weekly quid; ‘E’s always with some little lass;

Where the Yarra dreams along, Now in shadow, now in sun, Murmuring a drowsy song, Here she rests, the placid one. Here she rests and takes her ease,

Can this be the old town of wheat-… Of Ted Toll’s smithy, with the an… Of stacks in the station yard, and… Of bow-legged bound’ry riders comi… This strange, new, brisk town of s…

I got so down to it last night, With longin’ for what could not be… That nothin’ in the world seemed r… Or everything was wrong with me. My house was just a lonely hole,

‘Ah, wot’s the use?' she sez. 'L… Why can’t I go to ‘ell in my own… I never arst you ’ere to mag an’ m… Nor yet,' she sez, 'to pray. I’ll take wot’s comin’, an’ whine…

‘E wouldn’t play the flute; the su… An’, after all the trouble that we… To try an’ cheer,'is spirits up so… ‘E jes’ sat there an’ slung a glar… To orl the crowd. The diserbligi…

I know I’m dull. I know I got a… That’s only fit fer fertilizin’ 'a… I don’t arst for bokays: I ain’t… But fair is fair. An’ when yeh think yer somethin’ u…

I’ve never met a man who hated dog… One meets with all sorts as throug… The mean ones, and the vain ones,… The foolish fellows who splash up… The brisk ‘live wires,’ the dull,…

There’s a kid around the corner Who is filled with half-formed fea… He is growing rather wistful As the Christmas season nears; For a hint has reached him lately