Some time ago Bob crossed the foam
And sailed for Cool-gar-dee,
And when our hard-up boy came home,
No wealthier was he!
We saw him -- at "the Rising Sun,"
And o'er an "s.-and-b."
We asked if Dad his prodigal son
Was mighty pleased to see?
"Perchance now you have been, old chap,
So long -- and far -- away.
The Guvnor's put the wine on tap,
And killed the calf to-day?"
The Prodigal laughed a weary laugh
Whilst sadly answered he:
"Dad didn't kill no fatted calf,
But d---d near slaughtered me!"
First published in The Bulletin, 20 November 1897;
and later in
The Poetry of 'Breaker' Morant: from "The Bulletin" 1891-1903 with original illustrations by Breaker Morant, 1980.
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography
See also.
Author reference sites: Austlit, Australian Dictionary of Biography
See also.
