The bachelor pokes up 'is 'ead

To see if you are gone;

But the married man lies down instead,

An' waits till the sights come on.

For 'Im an' 'Er an' a hit

(Direct or ricochee)

'E wants to finish 'is little bit,

An' 'e wants to go 'ome to 'is tea.

188

An'

But th

For

'E'll st

An'

For th

An'

The ba

To

But th

Till

ne bachelor will miss you clear

To fight another day;

it the married man, 'e says "No fear!"

'E wants you out of the way

'Im an' 'Er an' It

(An' 'is road to 'is farm or the sea),

wants to finish 'is little bit,

An' 'e wants to go 'ome to 'is tea.

e bachelor 'e fights 'is fight

An' stretches out an' snores;

t the married man sits up all nightFor 'e don't like out o' doors:

11 strain an' listen an' peer

An' give the first alarm

r the sake o' the breathin' 'e's used to 'ear

An' the 'ead on the thick of 'is arm.

e bachelor may risk 'is 'ide

o 'elp you when you're downed; t the married man will wait beside Till the ambulance comes round.

'E'll take your 'ome address

An' all you've time to say,

Or if 'e sees there's 'ope, 'e'll press
Your art'ry 'alf the day-

For 'Im an' 'Er an' It

(An' One from Three leaves Two),

For 'e knows you wanted to finish your bit,
An' 'e knows 'oo's wantin' you.

Yes, 'Im an' 'Er an' It

SME

T

The

T

(Our 'oly One in Three),

We're all of us anxious to finish our bit,

An' we want to get 'ome to our tea!

Tha

A

Lik

R

LICHTENBERG

(N. S. W. CONTINGENT)

SMELLS are surer than sounds or sights
To make your heart-strings crack—
They start those awful voices o' nights
That whisper, “Old man, come back."
That must be why the big things pass
And the little things remain,

Like the smell of the wattle by Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain.

There was some silly fire on the flank

And the small wet drizzling down

'here were the sold-out shops and the bank And the wet, wide-open town;

And we were doing escort-duty

To somebody's baggage-train,
nd I smelt wattle by Lichtenberg-
Riding in, in the rain.

It was all Australia to me

All I had found or missed: Every face I was crazy to see,

An

And every woman I'd kissed:

Th

All that I shouldn't ha' done, God knows!

I

(As He knows I'll do it again),

That smell of the wattle round Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain!

I saw Sydney the same as ever,

The picnics and brass-bands;

And the little homestead on Hunter River
And my new vines joining hands.

It all came over me in one act

Quick as a shot through the brain

With the smell of the wattle round Lichtenberg,
Riding in, in the rain!

I have forgotten a hundred fights,
But one I shall not forget-

With the raindrops bunging up my sights
And my eyes bunged up with wet;