Children of the Bush

Children of the Bush

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Title: Children of the Bush
Author: Henry Lawson
Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7065] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on March 5,
2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHILDREN
OF THE BUSH ***

Produced by Geoffrey Cowling; [email protected]
[ Transcriber's notes: The year of first magazine publication is shown in
the table of contents below. Additional transcriber's notes, including a
glossary, are included at the end of the EBook. ]

Children of the Bush by Henry Lawson

Contents
Send Round the Hat: 1901 The Pretty Girl in the Army: 1901 "Lord
Douglas": 1901 The Blindness of One-eyed Brogan: 1901 The
Sundowners: 1901 A Sketch of Mateship: 1902 On the Tucker Track:
1897 A Bush Publican's Lament: 1901 The Shearer's Dream: 1902 The
Lost Souls' Hotel: 1902 The Boozers' Home: 1899 The Sex Problem
Again: 1898 The Romance of the Swag: 1901 "Buckholts' Gate": 1901
The Bush-Fire: 1901 The House that Was Never Built: 1901 "Barney,
Take me home Again": 1901 A Droving Yarn: 1899 Gettin' Back on
Dave Regan: 1901 "Shall We Gather at the River": 1901 His Brother's
Keeper: 1901 The Ghosts of Many Christmases: 1901

SEND ROUND THE HAT
Now this is the creed from the Book of the Bush-- Should be simple
and plain to a dunce: "If a man's in a hole you must pass round the hat
Were he jail-bird or gentleman once."

"Is it any harm to wake yer?"
It was about nine o'clock in the morning, and, though it was Sunday
morning, it was no harm to wake me; but the shearer had mistaken me
for a deaf jackaroo, who was staying at the shanty and was something
like me, and had good-naturedly shouted almost at the top of his voice,
and he woke the whole shanty. Anyway he woke three or four others

who were sleeping on beds and stretchers, and one on a shake-down on
the floor, in the same room. It had been a wet night, and the shanty was
full of shearers from Big Billabong Shed which had cut out the day
before. My room mates had been drinking and gambling overnight, and
they swore luridly at the intruder for disturbing them.
He was six-foot-three or thereabout. He was loosely built, bony,
sandy-complexioned and grey eyed. He wore a good-humoured grin at
most times, as I noticed later on; he was of a type of bushman that I
always liked--the sort that seem to get more good-natured the longer
they grow, yet are hard-knuckled and would accommodate a man who
wanted to fight, or thrash a bully in a good-natured way. The sort that
like to carry somebody's baby round, and cut wood, carry water and do
little things for overworked married bushwomen. He wore a
saddle-tweed sac suit two sizes too small for him, and his face, neck,
great hands and bony wrists were covered with sun-blotches and
freckles.
"I hope I ain't disturbin' yer," he shouted, as he bent over my bunk, "but
there's a cove--"
"You needn't shout!" I interrupted, "I'm not deaf."
"Oh--I beg your pardon!" he shouted. "I didn't know I was yellin'. I
thought you was the deaf feller."
"Oh, that's all right," I said. "What's the trouble?"
"Wait till them other chaps is done swearin' and I'll tell yer," he said.
He spoke with a quiet, good-natured drawl, with something of the nasal
twang, but tone and drawl distinctly Australian--altogether apart from
that of the Americans.
"Oh, spit it out for Christ's sake, Long'un!" yelled One-eyed Bogan,
who had been the worst swearer in a rough shed, and he fell back on his
bunk as if his previous remarks had exhausted him.
"It's that there sick jackaroo that was