THERE-S a fresh track down the paddock
Through the lightwoods to the creek,
And I notice Billy Craddock
And Maloney do not speak,
And The Snag is slyly bitter
When he-s criticising Bill,
And there-s quite a foreign glitter
On the fellows at the mill.

Sid M-Mahon-s turned out a dandy
With a masher coat and tie,
And the engine-driver, Sandy,
Curls his whiskers on the sly:
All the boys wear paper collars
And their tombstone shirts of nights,
So it-s ten to one in dollars
There-s a new girl up at White-s.

She-s a charmer from the river,
But she steeps the lads in gloom,
With her blue eyes all a-quiver
And her hair like wattle-bloom;
Though she-s pretty and beguiling,
And so lit up, like, with fun
That the flowers turn to her smiling,
Just as if she was the sun.

But I wish she-d leave the valley,
For the camp is dull to me,
Now the mill hands never rally
For the regulation spree,
And there-s not another joker
Gives a tinker-s curse for nap.,
Or will take a hand at poker
Or at euchre with a chap!

Tom won-t stir us with his fiddle
By the boilers as he did
While Bob stepped it in the middle,
And we passed the billy-lid.
Ah! we had some gay old nights there,
But the boys now don-t agree,
And they hang about at White-s there,
When they-ve togged up after tea.

With the gloves we have no battle;
Now they sneak away and moon
Round with White, discussing cattle
All the Sunday afternoon.
There-s a want of old uprightness,
Too, has come upon the push,
And a sort of cold politeness
That-s not called for in the bush.

They-re all off, too, in that quarter;
Kate goes sev-ral times a week
Seeing Andy Kelly-s daughter,
Jimmy-s sister, up the creek;
And this difference seems a pity,
Since their chances are so slim-
While they are running after Kitty,
She is running after Jim.