The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1902-05-08
The Dying StOckman.

L
pilot at Melbourne Heads never
reaches the city, but Tim and T
arrived there safely after our yoy-
age in the emigrant ship. The
Melbourne harbor is one Of the
worst in the world to enter. The
mouth of the Hoogly river-the
entrance to Calcutta-is perhaps
the worst: it is q mill race over
quicksand and if you touch you
are gone. And the entrance to
Melbourne harbor is mill race
over hidden rocks, and if you touch
them you are gone.
After few days in the city Tim
and I decided we would 90 up
country and get some of the salt
out of our bones. We would go
to Ballarat and dig gold, for we,
thought a man who could dig qua
no could dig gold, SO we made
small swag of our clothes and
started. just on the outskirts Of
the city we fell in with an old dog
and I took him along. He was So
poor he could hardly navigate, but,
in three weeks he was as fat as a
South Sea porpoise. He got fat
on young rabbits. They are as
thick in Australia as dandelions in
the prison yard.
Well, the rabbits got Tim and I
a job painting wire fence. three
miles long and FIVE feet high,
around paddock-that is what
they call them in Australia; it is a
pasture. The fence was to keep,
the cattle in and the rabbits out.
It was stretched on stone wall
which was sunk three feet in the.
ground to keep the rabbits from
burrowing under it. We got two
shillings day to paint the fence.
white; and, oh! what picnic it.
was. It was in grape picking time.
and the people were making wine.
Tim and had a jug we never let
get empty.
Tim was one Of the best sailor
singers / ever listened to. He had
brought lot of song pamphlets.
with him and he would sing as We
painted, and in the evening we
would go up to where the grape
pickers were camped and have a
grand time spinning yarns and
singing songs. One new song
of the times, ''The Dying Stock.
man." was very popular with the
stockman-that is, cattle owners
and cowboys combined in one.
When we finished the painting
We had too much money to go to,
any Ballarats, SO we wandered
back to Melbourne to spend it.
just at the entrance of the city,
where the stage left for Ballarat,
stood a public house and at this
"pub" Tim and / stopped to wet
our whistles. The barroom was
packed with stockmen who had
just sold their cattle. Tim gave
me the nudge and said, "This is
the chance Of my life.'' Then he
jumped onto a table and COM
menced to sing sThe Dying Stock
man." It appears that this stock
man that died had got lost in the
bush and starved to death; and
they found him under blue gum
tree with his head pillowed on his
saddle and buried him there.
When Tim started to sing the
pub" was like Portuguese board
ing house everybody talking and
nobody listening but in the space
of a moment every stockman's eye
was on him. When he finished
they lifted him off the table and
sat him. on the bar and ordered
Miss Public House to fill them up
again. They took Tins cap and
filled it with gold sovereigns So
full that three or four fell on the
floor. | picked them up and put
them in my pocket, for / thought
Tim couldn't carry them. He sang
several more songs ana then we
hooked it for the boarding house
at Sand Edge by the bay, paid the
mistress five shillings she had
loaned US when we hit the road