“It will break him now to clear it; and it’s grieved I am to hear it;
Wisha, I wouldn’t be in Carey’s boots to-day!”
They came here in the early days,
And settled down as neighbours;
With tilted carts and bullock-drays
They shared our griefs and labours.
We tramped it to the old bush school,
In fine or rainy weather;
And there upon the dunce’s stool
We took our knocks together.