Bill Wannan's Bits.

[Rimeriter]

A few items Borrowed then ‘Rimed’ from
Bill Wannan’s - Tales From Back o’ Bourke.


Quotes with Conviction.

1 - A pompous Pommie personage as a London clubroom jest
once remarked upon us Aussies, and I guess ‘e knew whats best.

That we ought be a fine race now, settled in our home
because we were sent by English Judges
for never more to roam.

So a dear old Australian lady having won a pile on Tatts
when asked if she’d go to England to get some finest hats
said with gusto and with vigour, and certainly some aplomb
“ England, dear old England, No.
Thats where convicts travel from.”

2 - Bush cooks, they was renowned for a very lively meal
they offen cooked ‘ard ‘tucker’ that had genuine appeal
without mutton, beef or damper as a tempting tasty treat
they’d bake a possum in a pumpkin
and sometimes leave the feet.

Boiled cockatoo, was very tough to get your fangs around
‘specially if the one ‘e used was found layin’ on the ground
but if you boiled it in a billy, and stuck in an axe head
when the axe head became soft, ya knew that it was dead,
then gently poured the water off with some finesse and with verve
every time ya knew ya ‘ad
a very tasty serve.

Then with supper for dessert they’d put some damper out
and everyone would say a prayer, exceptin’ those devout,
cos johnny-cake needed somethin’ else to ‘elp it go right down
but lashin’s of black treacle might cause the cook to frown
so ‘cocky’s joy’ and ‘beetle bait’ became the chosen name
for syrups from the sugar cane that made
each diner game.

Then there is the legend of the ‘ puddin’ wif a past ’
the local cook ‘ad mixed it and tried to make it last.
At first it was a tea cake with charcoal as a shell, and
with cinders stickin’ to the skin, it weren’t very well.
When ‘e cut it open, the insides dribbled out, then it
crawled across the table like a snake without a snout,
so ‘e set some dishes down upon the dirty wooden floor
to catch what could be caught of it, before it made the door.

Next night then, ‘e dished it up again, as bread and butter pudd’n,
the overseer ‘ad a go and then ‘e said ‘e could’n,
because it ‘ad been smoke-dried instead of bein’ steamed
‘is nostrils flared, ears turned red and ‘is eyes they really gleamed.
Then later on ‘e tried so hard to cut it with an axe
the swing was from the shoulder, ‘e wasn’t very lax,
'e made a gap into the bread and the pudd’n crust
by now the cook was just survivin’ on everybodys trust.
So when it got to Sunday ‘e still ‘ad not enough
because when the desert appeared, it now was named plumduff.

It ‘ad wriggled orf the table.
It ‘ad stunk the place to death.
It ‘ad taken sharpness from an axe,
an’ the overseers breath.

But later in the cookhouse,
‘e was still tryin’ to make it last
but nobody wanted more to do,
eatin the puddin’ wiff a past.

(c). Rimeriter.
6/4/00.