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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343964" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bush Christening</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the outer Barcoo where the churches are few, <br>And men of religion are scanty, <br>On a road never cross'd 'cept by folk that are lost, <br>One Michael Magee had a shanty. <br>Now this Mike was the dad of a ten year old lad, <br>Plump, healthy, and stoutly conditioned; <br>He was strong as the best, but poor Mike had no rest <br>For the youngster had never been christened. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And his wife used to cry, `If the darlin' should die <br>Saint Peter would not recognise him.' <br>But by luck he survived till a preacher arrived, <br>Who agreed straightaway to baptise him. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the artful young rogue, while they held their collogue, <br>With his ear to the keyhole was listenin', <br>And he muttered in fright, while his features turned white, <br>`What the divil and all is this christenin'?' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was none of your dolts, he had seen them brand colts, <br>And it seemed to his small understanding, <br>If the man in the frock made him one of the flock, <br>It must mean something very like branding. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So away with a rush he set off for the bush, <br>While the tears in his eyelids they glistened -- <br>`'Tis outrageous,' says he, `to brand youngsters like me, <br>I'll be dashed if I'll stop to be christened!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a young native dog he ran into a log, <br>And his father with language uncivil, <br>Never heeding the `praste' cried aloud in his haste, <br>`Come out and be christened, you divil!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But he lay there as snug as a bug in a rug, <br>And his parents in vain might reprove him, <br>Till his reverence spoke (he was fond of a joke) <br>`I've a notion,' says he, `that'll move him.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">`Poke a stick up the log, give the spalpeen a prog; <br>Poke him aisy -- don't hurt him or maim him, <br>'Tis not long that he'll stand, I've the water at hand, <br>As he rushes out this end I'll name him. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">`Here he comes, and for shame! ye've forgotten the name -- <br>Is it Patsy or Michael or Dinnis?' <br>Here the youngster ran out, and the priest gave a shout -- <br>`Take your chance, anyhow, wid `Maginnis'!' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As the howling young cub ran away to the scrub <br>Where he knew that pursuit would be risky, <br>The priest, as he fled, flung a flask at his head <br>That was labelled `MAGINNIS'S WHISKY'! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And Maginnis Magee has been made a J.P., <br>And the one thing he hates more than sin is <br>To be asked by the folk, who have heard of the joke, <br>How he came to be christened `Maginnis'! </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>A.B. (Banjo) Paterson</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Barton+Paterson">Andrew Barton Paterson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343964" data-title="Bush Christening de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="On the outer Barcoo where the churches are few, 
And men of religion are scanty, 
On a road never cross'd 'cept by folk that are lost, 
One Michael Magee had a shanty. 
Now this Mike was the dad of a ten year old lad, 
Plump, healthy, and stoutly ..."></div>
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