A stranger came from New South Wales, and he was tall and brown.
He lined up beside us at the bar and sank his schooner down,
And all the while, to pass the time, he told us doubtful tales,
Of the country he laid claim to, that remarkable New South Wales.
With soil so rich and fertile, so ran his line of talk,
That pumpkin vines fair sprinted along, as fast as a man can walk.
He said it took two hours, sometimes, to ride through the hollow logs,
For the timber grew so thick and tall.......And then he mentioned DOGS.
Little McGinnis spoke up then, arising from his seat,
"I dunno about them other things, but at dogs, we gotcha beat".
"I was boundary ridin once," he said, "on a station out Longreach way,
And lost me bearings among the hills, right at the end of day".
So I let the old moke poke along and find his own way in the dark,
Until in the distance I saw a light, and then I heard him bark.
Well, station dogs are mostly noise, I never took no heed,
I only wanted me bearings, but I could have done with a feed.
So I went on ridin' towards the light, just followin' me nose,
And then I heard 'im bark again, and this time he's up close.
I needn't have worried, he's only a dog, the kind the "cockies" keep,
That chase the dingoes away at night, then lay down all day and sleep.
When I gets nearer he whines a bit, friendly and quiet and deep,
Then he stands on hind legs to lick me face, and I see his gentle eye,
And his dusty coat and wagging tail by the starlight in the sky,
And the horse I was sitting on at that time, was seventeen hands high !!!"
The stranger paled and admitted, with the wind took out of his sails,
That dogs do grow bigger in Queensland, than they do in New South Wales."