Now 'urry, Mrs New South Wales, and come along of us, <br />We're all a-goin' ridin' in the Federation 'bus. <br />A fam'ly party, don't you know -- yes, Queenslans's comin', too, <br />You can't afford it! Go along! We've kep' box seat for you. <br />The very one of all the lot that can afford it best, <br />You'll only have to pay your share the same as all the rest. <br />You say your sons is workin' men, and can't afford to ride! <br />Well, all our sons is workin' men, a-smokin' up outside. <br />You think you might be drove to smash by some unskilful bloke! <br />Well, ain't we all got necks ourselves? And we don't want 'em broke. <br />You bet your lofe we're not such fools but what we'll do our best <br />To keep from harm -- for harm to one is harm to all the rest. <br /> <br />Now, don't go trudgin' on alone, but get aboard the trap; <br />That basket, labelled "Capital", you take it in your lap! <br />It's nearly time we made a start, so let's 'ave no more talk: <br />You 'urry up and get aboard, or else stop out and walk. <br />We've got a flag; we've got a band; out 'orses travels fast; <br />Ho! Right away, Bill! Let 'em go! The old 'un's come at last!<br /><br />Andrew Barton Paterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-federal-bus-conductor-and-the-old-lady/
