While The Billy BoilsSearchSam Fallow was a farming man Of substance and sobriety,Who lived near Coonabarabran In comfort and propriety.
For twenty years from morn till night He'd worked with willing cheeriness;For twenty years from dark till light He'd rested from his weariness.
His intellect was calm and free From falsehood or duplicity;And what his neighbours told him he Believed with sweet simplicity.
But though his mental calibre Was babylike and innocent,His physical proportions were Both mighty and magnificent.
His mind was like the virgin soil, Of great potentiality;His thews and sinews, tough with toil, The cultured actuality.
And Sam came down to Sydney town, To spend his Christmas holiday;And there he met with William Brown, And with him spent a jolly day.
Now, William Brown was bad and bold, While Sam was all simplicity,And all the tales that William told Sam swallowed with felicity.
When introduced to William's friend, And William's friend predicted himLong life and money without end, Sam never contradicted him.When they performed some little trick, And challenged Sam to do it, heAt once confessed his head was thick And void of ingenuity.
Then William Brown grew sad and sighed, And murmured quite dejectedly: -
"My rich old Uncle James has died In Fiji, unexpectedly.”
As beat of drums and trumpet tones Arouse a camp from sleepiness,So these few words through Samuel's bones Produced a kind of creepiness.
Some message from the distant past At Sam's dull brain seemed hammering,He thought a moment, then at last He recognised its clamouring.
"Why now I know,” at length he cried - "And I was near deluded too -The chap, when poor old grand-dad died, His latest words alluded to.
"Before he breathed his last, says he, 'Remember, though I'm leaving you,That coves with uncles in Fiji Are frauds who are deceiving you.
" 'When Noah on his ancient deck Met such a one who sounded him,He caught the beggar by the neck And chucked him out and drownded him.
" 'I'm peggin' out without a doubt, But if you meet 'em score with 'em;Just turn the wasters inside out, And wipe the bloomin' floor with 'em.’
"And then poor grand-dad died; and so His dying words affected me,I've got to do, before I go, As poor grand-dad directed me.”
Sam caught a spieler in each hand, In vain was all their battling;For miles around, I understand, Folks heard their bones a-rattling.
He swung those spielers round and round, Was deaf to all their squealing, too;And Sam not only swept the ground, He wiped the walls and ceiling too.
And when he dropped them on the floor, Mere remnants of humanity,The room was filled with hair and gore,
With garments and profanity.
Now, when the festive times come round, The time for Jays and Jugginses,Two battered spielers still are found In search of Mugs and Mugginses.
But if perchance they meet a man Of simple amiability,And he says, “Coonabarabran,” They vanish with agility.