The Canadian/American writer and traveller Norman Duncan made a trip through Australia around 1913-14. He published (in America and England) a little-known account of his journey in 1915 under the title Australian Byways: The Narrative of a Sentimental Traveller. At one point he describes a scene in a bush pub that gives an insight into how traditional songs might have been transmitted, in this case ‘Flash Jack from Gundagai.’ This is a rare first-hand account of bush song in action in the period between Paterson’s Old Bush Songs initial publication and A L Lloyd’s account during the 1920s.
AT that very moment there was an astonishing quantity of music in the air. It began in roar; and it continued at the pitch of a roar scorning diminuendo and crescendo, or carelessly incapable of either, I am not sure which. At any rate, the neighborhood vibrated with melody. It originated in the bar. And at a word from the young jackaroo, it emerged from the bar, and stumbled into the railed inclosure, and sat down beside us, continuing fortissimo: the instrument of its production being, as you may know, one of the three drunken stockmen. Having run his ballad to the end, the stockman yielded to the quiet of the night and far-away place and turned out, at once, to be most amiably inclined in the matter of communicating his song. Not only did he communicate it, in a speaking voice, to be written down, but repeated the lines, in the interest of precision, and even assisted with the spelling, all with the air of a man who had at last found his calling and was perfectly aware of the gravity of its responsibilities. And then (said he) we must master the tune: this being particularly important to a perfect exposition of the whole composition. He sang again, therefore, occasionally interrupting him- self to inquire whether or not we had "caught" the melody, and beseeching us to join with him " vociferating with such fervor, his eyes blazing, his face working, and his forefinger beating the time, and leaning so close, and radiant of such gleeful absorbtion with his occupation, that we could not follow the melody at all, but must give a fascinated attention to the bristling visage and enrapt manner of the good fellow.
Here, then, I transcribe the song of the drunken stockman, called "Flash Jack from Gundagai":
I've shore at Burrabogie, an' I've shore at Toganmain,
I've shore at Big Willandra, an' upon the Coleraine, But before th' shearin' was over, I've wished meself back again, Shearin' for ol' Tom Patterson on One Tree Plain.
All among th' wool, boys! Keep yer wide blades full, boys!
I kin do a respectable tally meself w'enever I likes t' try;
But they know me 'round th' back-blocks as Flash Jack from Gundagai.
I've shore at Big Willandra, an' I've shore at Tilberoo,
An' once I drew me blades, me boys, upon th' famed Barcoo,
At Cowan Downs an' Trida, as far as Moulamein;
But I always was glad t' get back again t' One Tree Plain.
I've pinked 'em with the Wolseleys, an' I've rushed with B-bows,
An' shaved 'em in th' grease, me boys, with th' grass-seed showin' through;
But I never slummed me pen, me boys, whate'r it might contain,
While shearin' for ol' Tom Patterson on One Tree Plain.
I've been whalin' up the Lachlan, an' I've dossed on Cooper's Creek,
An' once I rung Cudjingie shed, an' blued it in a week;
But when Gabriel blows his trump, me boys, 111 catch the mornin’ train,
An' push for ol' Tom Patterson's on One Tree Plain.
All among th' wool, boys! Keep yer wide blades full, boys!
I kin do a respectable tally meself w'enever I likes t' try;
But they know me ‘round th' back-blocks as Flash Jack from Gundagai.
Flash Jack from Gundagai was a shearer of celebrated skill, if this boastful recital had the right of it " and the devil of a fellow, as well, and a bit on the other side of the law. When he pinked 'em with the Wolseleys he had employed a mechanical shearing- device so effectually that his sheep were clipped to the skin; and when he rushed with B-hows*, too, he had made amazing haste with the hand shears. When he rung Cudjingie shed he had proved himself the fastest shearer employed on that great station; and when he blued it in a week he had squandered the earnings of this glorious achievement, at some pot-house like Forty Mile Inn, in the tumultuous period of seven days. All this, being not yet too far gone in his potations, the stockman elucidated, with the profoundest determination to be exact, warning us, the while, that a deal of pernicious misinformation was let loose upon every new chum (tenderfoot) that came to the bush. (Pp 175-177).
* B-bows
Hear John Thompson sing it at his Australian folksong a day site