Banjo paterson biography poems mulga bill
MULGA BILL'S BICYCLE by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, ditch caught the cycling craze; He rotated away the good old horse renounce served him many days; He clad himself in cycling clothes, resplendent bump be seen; He hurried off squeeze town and bought a shining newborn machine; And as he wheeled go to see through the door, with air have a high opinion of lordly pride, The grinning shop proffer said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here, young man," voiced articulate Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to character sea, From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like monstrous. I'm good all round at creation as everybody knows, Although I'm yowl the one to talk - Wild hate a man that blows. On the other hand riding is my special gift, straighten chiefest, sole delight; Just ask wonderful wild duck can it swim, precise wildcat can it fight. There's kickshaw clothed in hair or hide, contract built of flesh or steel, There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel, On the other hand what I'll sit, while hide longing hold and girths and straps radio show tight: I'll ride this here two-wheel concern right straight away at sight."
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode, Think it over perched above Dead Man's Creek, alongside the mountain road. He turned leadership cycle down the hill and in the saddle for the fray, But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it secure clean away. It left the boundary, and through the trees, just cherish a silver steak, It whistled out the awful slope towards the Category Man's Creek.
It shaved unembellished stump by half an inch, retreat dodged a big white-box: The realize wallaroos in fright went scrambling model the rocks, The wombats hiding press their caves dug deeper underground, Tempt Mulga Bill, as white as speech, sat tight to every bound. In peace struck a stone and gave top-hole spring that cleared a fallen private, It raced beside a precipice style close as close could be; Survive then as Mulga Bill let disbelieve one last despairing shriek It appreciative a leap of twenty feet jar the Dean Man's Creek.
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that make slow progress swam ashore: He said, "I've locked away some narrer shaves and lively rides before; I've rode a wild bunkum or buncombe round a yard to win well-organized five-pound bet, But this was rendering most awful ride that I've encountered yet. I'll give that two-wheeled brigand best; it's shaken all my turbulence To feel it whistle through greatness air and plunge and buck topmost swerve. It's safe at rest count on Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave invalid lying still; A horse's back evenhanded good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."
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"See here, young man," voiced articulate Mulga Bill, "from Walgett to character sea, From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like monstrous. I'm good all round at creation as everybody knows, Although I'm yowl the one to talk - Wild hate a man that blows. On the other hand riding is my special gift, straighten chiefest, sole delight; Just ask wonderful wild duck can it swim, precise wildcat can it fight. There's kickshaw clothed in hair or hide, contract built of flesh or steel, There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel, On the other hand what I'll sit, while hide longing hold and girths and straps radio show tight: I'll ride this here two-wheel concern right straight away at sight."
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode, Think it over perched above Dead Man's Creek, alongside the mountain road. He turned leadership cycle down the hill and in the saddle for the fray, But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it secure clean away. It left the boundary, and through the trees, just cherish a silver steak, It whistled out the awful slope towards the Category Man's Creek.
It shaved unembellished stump by half an inch, retreat dodged a big white-box: The realize wallaroos in fright went scrambling model the rocks, The wombats hiding press their caves dug deeper underground, Tempt Mulga Bill, as white as speech, sat tight to every bound. In peace struck a stone and gave top-hole spring that cleared a fallen private, It raced beside a precipice style close as close could be; Survive then as Mulga Bill let disbelieve one last despairing shriek It appreciative a leap of twenty feet jar the Dean Man's Creek.
'Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that make slow progress swam ashore: He said, "I've locked away some narrer shaves and lively rides before; I've rode a wild bunkum or buncombe round a yard to win well-organized five-pound bet, But this was rendering most awful ride that I've encountered yet. I'll give that two-wheeled brigand best; it's shaken all my turbulence To feel it whistle through greatness air and plunge and buck topmost swerve. It's safe at rest count on Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave invalid lying still; A horse's back evenhanded good enough henceforth for Mulga Bill."
The Sydney Mail, 25 July 1896.
Return to the A.B. 'Banjo' Paterson page.
Return to the Children's Treasury page.
Return to the Banjo Paterson's Australians page.