Works in the Herald 1929
Do you know Sam? Now, Sam's a proper sport.
You ought to see him managin' a gun.
Quick eye, quick hand. Oh, Sam's the dinkum sort
To go into the country for soe fun.
Take it from me, his marksmanship is prime.
Jist Bing! Dead on the bullseye every time.
Last Sund'y week ole Sam an' me went out
Shootin' an' that jist for a little run.
But ther' ain't too much game; an' Sam blows out
With trampin' thro' them paddicks in the sun.
Hot day it was. An' we 'ad stopped a bit,
Outside the twenty mile, to moisten it.
Sam don't 'ate anythin' like bein' done
For some reel sport. An' him a dead shot, too.
So he jist sits there fiddlin' with his gun,
Grouchin' with 'avin' nothin' much to do.
But, near the road, there's a triang'ler thing.
"Watch me!" ses Sam. Up goes his gun, an' Bing!
Knocked it firt shot! -- Yes; some triangle thing --
Some motor sign or somethin', I dunno --
Sam fires again. You ought 'a' 'eard it ring!
Rung like a bell. An' then I 'as a go.
Then, shot for shot, we bangs it fair in half --
Bashed it to blazes. Gosh! An' did we laugh!
Then up the road -- Wot's that? Aw, I dunno,
Might be a danger sign; we didn't look --
But up the road, 'bout half a mile or so,
We seen a motor car, an' slung our hook.
When we got round the bend we heard a row --
Yellin' an' -- jist some interferin' cow.
Wot's that you're saying? On that very road
Ther' was an accidnet -- that very day?
A feller killed? That car! Well, I be blowed!
Careless, I s'pose. They often get that way.
But, say, you must see Sam. You'd like his sort --
A dead, straight shot. Oh, Sam's a bonzer sport.
Herald, 30 August 1929, p6