The Man From Waterloo

It was the Man from Waterloo,     When work in town was slack,     Who took the track as bushmen do,     And humped his swag out back.     He tramped for months without a bob,     For most the sheds were full,     Until at last he got a job     At picking up the wool.     He found the work was rather rough,     But swore to see it through,     For he was made of sterling stuff,     The Man from Waterloo.     The first remark was like a stab     That fell his ear upon,     Twas, Theres another something scab     The boss has taken on!     They couldnt let the towny be,     They sneered like anything;     Theyd mock him when hed sound the g     In words that end in ing.     There came a man from Ironbark,     And at the shed he shore;     He scoffed his victuals like a shark,     And like a fiend he swore.     Hed shorn his flowing beard that day,     He found it hard to reap,     Because twas hot and in the way     While he was shearing sheep.     His loaded fork in grimy holt     Was poised, his jaws moved fast,     Impatient till his throat could bolt     The mouthful taken last.     He couldnt stand a something toff;     Much less a jackaroo;     And swore to take the trimmings off     The Man from Waterloo.     The towny saw he must be up     Or else be underneath,     And so one day, before them all,     He dared to clean his teeth.     The men came running from the shed,     And shouted, Heres a lark!     Its gone to clean its tooties! said     The man from Ironbark.     His feeble joke was much enjoyed;     He sneered as bullies do,     And with a scrubbing-brush he guyed     The Man from Waterloo.     The Jackaroo made no remark     But peeled and waded in,     And soon the Man from Ironbark     Had three teeth less to grin!     And when they knew that he could fight     They swore to see him through,     Because they saw that he was right,     The Man from Waterloo.     Now in a shop in Sydney, near     The Bottle on the Shelf,     The tale is told, with trimmings, by     The Jackaroo himself.     They made my life a hell, he said;     They wouldnt let me be;     They set the bully of the shed     To take it out of me.     The dirt was on him like a sheath,     He seldom washed his phiz;     He sneered because I cleaned my teeth,     I guess I dusted his!     I treated them as they deserved,     I signed on one or two!     They wont forget me soon, observed     The Man from Waterloo.