Works in the Herald 1929
3. BOURKE STREET
As I went over Bourke street,
Where gleaming windows guard their lure,
A natty man I chanced to meet
Whose mien was furtive and unsure.
His pearl hat had a raffish tip,
His roving eyes on purse and bag
Gaezed carelessly; and from his lip
Miraculously drooped a fag.
His supple fingers, shaped for spoil,
He massaged gently as he went --
Slim, restless fingers trained to toil
For one of predatory bent.
And e'er those eyes, to north to south
Slid evilly s greeting came,
Soft, from the corner of his mouth:
"Chay! 'Ow's the game?"
Herald, 19 January 1929, p8