![]() |
Project Gutenberg Australia a treasure-trove of literature treasure found hidden with no evidence of ownership |
![]() |
Project Gutenberg Australia Home
Return to Index of Poems
‘Twas a picnic they had on the hill at Red Rock,
And Grandmother Harris was present,
In her little poke bonnet, plaid shawl, and print frock.
And a smile that was shaped like a crescent.
They’d brought her along with a horse and a slide,
On which was a rocker to seat her;
And her brolly aloft, in her joy and her pride,
Not the Governor’s lady could beat her.
Tho’ its motion was not quite the motion of eels.
That conveyance was fashioned with cunning;
It was shaped like a slide, but was fitted with wheels,
And, of course, on its wheels it was running:
Low blocks that were cut from an ironbark log
By the Anderson boys and the Maxils,
As broad as your hand so that, crossing a bog,
They wouldn’t sink down to the axles.
Well, they drew her right up to the top of the hill,
To a spot that was shaded with green’ry,
So that she would see all the games on the bill,
And also could study the scen’ry.
The horse was unharnessed, and nibbling about,
And they sat in a ring round the billies,
When a possum some imp had concealed bounded out,
And over the basket and dillies.
The yells and confusion, the subsequent chase,
Set Grandmother rocking with laughter.
She laughed till she cried; but the bloom in her face
Was as ashes a little while after;
For the four-wheeler started—how, nobody knew,
And rattled down hill for a cropper.
O, the further went Granny the faster she flew,
And the louder she called them to stop her.
Many yards it had covered ere one of the band
Was aware that the trolly had bolted.
Then each did his best with his hat in his hand
On the track where the runaway jolted;
And the children ran after with echoing yells,
One here and there tripping and falling;
While a wire fence ahead on the level ground tells
Why Grandmother Harris is calling.
Tom Bayley was fleetest, he led from the jump,
And there wasn’t a doubt he’d have caught her,
If it hadn’t have been for the root of a stump—
The same that spreadeagled his daughter;
And a half-winded crowd panting close at their heels,
Each trying to get along faster.
Their eyes fixed ahead on the scurrying wheels,
Resulted in further disaster.
Then Callaway’s Kate, a smart lump of a lass.
Determined to capture Grandmother.
She was used to steep grades and to timber and grass,
And could run circus rings round her brother.
With her chest to the front and her hair streaming back,
(There wasn’t one there but admired her),
She rapidly strode down the runaway’s track.
As tho’ love and ambition inspired her.
Twas a race to the fence ‘tween the two of them now,
For prone on the hillside were many,
And most of the children but making a row,
And betting their marbles on Granny.
Jim Spencer was squatting in front of the lot,
Where he’d dropped with a muttered “O blow it!”
And Teresa Delaine in the rear, looking hot,
Just called to Kate Callaway, “Go it!”
Over tussocks and hollows and bits of dead wood,
Old Grandmother Harris was shaken.
If you think that the thrills of that ride did her good,
I venture to say you’re mistaken.
While she for dear life to the rocker held on,
She felt nigh as cold as midwinter.
But ‘twas a grand race—Aye, and Grandmother won
By a stride and a half from the sprinter.
The trolly shot underneath into McGuire’s,
But the chair was swept off it in pieces;
And Grandmother Harris was hung in the wires,
To the joy of McGuire and his nieces.
She was twisted and pinioned in such a queer mix
That needed an axe to release her;
And when they at last got her out of her fix,
It took them an hour to appease her.
But they sat her again on a part of the chair,
With a log and some pillows to plumb it;
And wiring a stick to the chain for each pair,
They hauled her once more to the summit.
And Bayley declared—when her temper had flown,
And the pain of her bruises had lessen’t—
‘Twas the merriest picnic they ever had known,
‘Cause Grandmother Harris was present.
This site is full of FREE ebooks - Project Gutenberg Australia