Where the little river gleaming Thro’ its shadows green and cool Broadens to the quiet dreaming Of a little shady pool; There an azure jewel burning

What’s the use? Give it best; Cut her loose; Have a rest. Hope is dead;

A golden maid whose golden voice Calls to the northern lands, Of riches she has had her choice. Twin treasures to make men rejoice Came easy to her hands:

Dear Boy As it appears to us old fogeys If you’ll excuse the term that we… You and your battery of bowling bo… Seem to have come a rather nasty f…

The dawnin’ of prosperity Recalls (said old George Jones) When I was young, a song we sung, In none too sober tones, When easy, breezy days were here,

His Honor walked into the shop For of shopping his Honor was fon… Did she blush? Did her eyes indi… In that slim little, trim little b… Did his bachelor heart miss a beat…

Not guilty, yer Honers! I talks… An’ I calls it a pretty crook gam… An’ an ‘og of a thing, if the copp… Such dishonor as this on me name On me name that ’as stood fer up’o…

Have you heard the magniloquent, e… The yogi of Yarra, whose silvery… In days of his promise won many vo… When loud in the land was the prai… And he magnetised all with his vig…

Home’s best (she said), and the ta… Of the hungering soil and the flai… Of the sun and the shuddering thre… Of the heat, and more heat yet; Of more than a woman can stand,

Brothers, what are we to think When we muse upon strong drink? Is it bad or is it good? Is it poison or is it food? Albatrosses, so say some,

Friends! Have you, too, noticed that calm w… Upon affairs today? Search as we may, The papers have few things indeed…

‘Mr Mead, the printer’ - so the t… But never in his presence since hi… Such a plain, plebeian title would… Felix Mead, Esquire, the literary… Down the street each morning to th…

There’s a soft and peaceful feelin… Comes across the farming hand As the shadows go a-stealing Slow along the new-turned land. The lazy curling smoke above the t…

‘Why do they do it? I dunno,’ Sez Digger Smith. ‘Yeh got me be… Some uv the yarns yeh ’ear is true… An’ some is rather umptydoo, An’ some is - indiscreet.

‘My oath!’ the Duchess sez. 'You’… Sich things as that. Yeh don’t me… Go hon!' she sez, or words to that… (It’s 'ard to imitate the speech t… I tells ‘er, ’Straight; I drives…