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“I’ve done a bit of drovin’,” said the skiter by the fire,
“An’ seen a whole year round without a roof;
I took a thousand bullocks from the north to Nevertire,
Three thousand miles, an’ never lost a hoof.”
“That isn’t much to blow about where cattlemen are free;
It’s done on every drovin’ track I know;
I’ve put it in the shade myself, and I don’t claim to be
No champion,” said Wonnaminta Joe.
“I started from the Norman with a thousand head of stores
For Thargomindah, rushin’ station kine.
An’ after months of drought an’ flood, an’ battling at the bores,
We got there with a thousand head and nine!”
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