The Boss Over The Board

When hes over a rough and unpopular shed,     With the sins of the bank and the men on his head;     When he musnt look black or indulge in a grin,     And thirty or forty men hate him like Sin,     I am moved to admit, when the total is scored,     That its just a bit off for the Boss-of -the-board.     I have battled a lot,     But my dreams never soared     To the lonely position of Boss-of-the-board.     Twas a black-listed shed down the Darling: the Boss     Was a small man to see, though a big man to cross,     We had nought to complain of, except what we thought,     And the Boss didnt boss any more than he ought;     But the Union was booming, and Brotherhood soared,     So we hated like poison the Boss-of-the-board.     We could tolerate hands,     We respected the cook;     But the name of a Boss was a blot in our book.     Hed a row with Big Duggan, a rough sort of Jim,     Or, rather, Jim Duggan was laying for him!     His hate of Injustice and Greed was so deep     That his shearing grew rough, and he ill-used the sheep.     And I fancied that Duggan his manliness lowerd     When he took off his shirt to the Boss-of-the-board,     For the Boss was ten stone,     And the shearer full-grown,     And he might have, they said, let the crawler alone.     Though some of us there wished the fight to the strong,     Yet we knew in our hearts that the shearer was wrong.     And the crawler was plucky, it cant be denied,     For he had to fight Freedom and Justice beside,     But he came up so gamely, as often as floored,     That a blackleg stood up for the Boss-of-the-board!     And the fight was a sight,     And we pondered that night,     Its surprising how some of those blacklegs can fight!     Next day at the office, when sadly the wreck     Of Jim Duggan came up like a lamb for his cheque,     Said the Boss, Dont be childish! Its all past and gone;     I am short of good shearers. Youd better stay on.     And we fancied Jim Duggan our dignity lowerd     When he stopped to oblige a damned Boss-of-the-board.     We said nothing to Jim,     For a joke might be grim,     And the subject, we saw, was distasteful to him.     The Boss just went on as hed done from the first,     And he favoured Big Duggan no more than the worst;     And when wed cut out and the steamer came down,     With the hawkers and spielers, to take us to town,     And wed all got aboard, twas Jim Duggan, good Lord!     Who yelled for three cheers for the Boss-of-the-board.     Twas a bit off, no doubt,     And with Freedom about,     But a lot is forgot when a shed is cut out.     With Freedom of Contract maintained in his shed,     And the curse of the Children of Light on his head,     Hes apt to long sadly for sweetheart or wife,     And his views be inclined to the dark side of life.     The Truth must be spread and the Cause must be shored,     But its just a bit rough on the Boss-of-the-board.     I am all for the Right,     But perhaps (out of sight)     As a son or a husband or father hes white.