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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395957" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Drought Idyll</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was the middle of the drought; the ground was hot and bare,<br>You might search for grass with a microscope, but nary grass was there;<br>The hay was done, the cornstalks gone, the trees were dying fast,<br>The sun o'erhead was a curse in read and the wind was a furnace blast;<br>The waterholes were sun-baked mud, the drays stood thick as bees<br>Around the well, a mile away, amid the ringbarked trees.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">McGinty left his pumpkin-pie and gazed upon the scene:<br>His cows stood propped 'gainst tree and fence wherever they could lean;<br>The horse he'd fixed with sapling forks had fallen down once more;<br>The fleas were hopping joyfully on stockyard, path, and floor;<br>The flies in thousands buzzed about before his waving hand;<br>The hungry pigs squealed as he said, 'Me own, me native land!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Queensland, me Mother! Ain't yer well?' he asked. 'Come tell me how's -'<br>'Dry up! Dry up!' yelled Mrs Mac, 'Go out and feed the cows.'<br>'But where's the feed?' McGinty cried, 'The sugarcane's all done -<br>It wasn't worth the bally freight we paid for it per ton.<br>I'll get me little axe and go with Possum and the mare<br>For 'arf a ton of apple-tree or a load of prickly-pear.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The prickly-pear'll kill the cows unless yer bile it right,'<br>Cried Mrs Mac, 'and I don't mean to bile it all the night.<br>They tell me fer a bob a bag the brewery will sell<br>Their refuse stuff, like Simpson 'ad - his cows is doin' well.<br>Yer get the loan of Bampston's dray and borrer Freeny's nags,<br>And fetch along a decent load, McGinty - thirty bags.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">McGinty borrowed Bampston's dray and hitched up Freeney's nags<br>And drove like blazes into town and fetched back thirty bags.<br>The stuff was mellow, soft, and brown; and if you came too near<br>It shed around a lovely scent till the air seemed full of beer,<br>McGinty fetched each feedbox out and filled it to the brim,<br>Then lit his pipe and fell asleep. That was the style of him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cows, they lurched off fence and tree and staggered in to feed,<br>The horses tottered after them - old, feeble, and knock-kneed.<br>But when they smelt that sacred stuff in boxes on the ground<br>They smiled and neighed and lowed and twirled their hungry tails around.<br>You would have walked a hundred miles or more to see and hear<br>They way McGinty's stock attacked that stuff that smelt like beer…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Wake up! Wake up! McGinty man! Wake up!' yelled Mrs Mac.<br>She held a broom and every word was followed by a whack.<br>McGinty had been dreaming hard that it was Judgement Day<br>And he was drafted with the goats and being driven away;<br>The Devil with a toasting fork was jabbing at his jaw,<br>He rose and yelled and fled outside - and this is what he saw:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The brindle cow, with spotted tail, was trying to climb a tree;<br>The spotted cow, with brindled tail, to imitate a flea;<br>Old Bally who had lost one horn engaged in combat stout<br>With the Lincoln ram whose only eye McGinty had knocked out;<br>With tails entwined, among the trees, went Bessie and Basilk,<br>Singing, 'Goodbye, McGinty, we will come back with the milk,'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">McGinty, trembling, viewed the scene in wonderment and funk,<br>Then lifted up his voice and roared, 'Mother, the cows is drunk!<br>Look at that bloomin' heifer with 'er 'ead 'ung down the sty,<br>Telling the sow she loves 'er but she some'ow can't tell why.<br>Three of 'em snoring on their backs, the rest all on the loose -<br>Ain't there no police in these parts when cows gets on the boose?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">McGinty viewed the orgy with a jealousy profound -<br>Cows in various states of drunk were scattered all around;<br>But most his rage was heightened by the conduct of the horse<br>That stood and laughed, and laughed, and laughed - and laughed without remorse -<br>That horse so oft he'd lifted up and propped with logs and boughs<br>Now leant against a tree and mocked McGinty and his cows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Bring soda-water, Mother,' cried McGinty, 'Bring a tub'<br>(Forgetting that he lived about a league from any pu .<br>'I swear by soda-water when the drink illumes my brow,<br>And if it fixes up a man it ought to fix a cow.'<br>But as he spoke a boozy steer approached with speed intense<br>And helped McGinty over to the safe side of the fence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Regret and hate and envy held McGinty where he sat.<br>'To think,' he said, 'these purple cows should have a time like that!<br>For months I couldn't raise a drink - it wasn't up to me;<br>Yet every bally head of stock I've got is on the spree.<br>This comes when you forget to keep a bottle on the shelf.'<br>Inspired, he rose and smote his brow and fetched a spoon and delf -<br>'My word!' he said. 'It's up to me to feed on this meself!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Essex+Evans">George Essex Evans</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=395957" data-title="A Drought Idyll de George Essex Evans" data-description="It was the middle of the drought; the ground was hot and bare,
You might search for grass with a microscope, but nary grass was there;
The hay was done, the cornstalks gone, the trees were dying fast,
The sun o'erhead was a curse in read and the w..."></div>
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