The Big White Bullock
Under a guidin’ providence
Is Mickety Mulga Jim,
For nothink yet of serious ‘arm
‘As ever come to him.
A big white Bullick charged him once,
But never gored ‘is pelt
Because the animal’ s two ‘orns
Run just inside ‘is belt.
The Bullick kicked and tossed and roared,
But couldn’t shake him loose;
Jim tried to slip the buckle free,
But found it was no use.
For days and days, so Mulga says,
He was suspended so,
And then became unconscious
Wid swinging to and fro.
In this suspensive attitude
He hung, he thinks, a week,
Until the bullick went to drink
And soused him in the creek.
The water brought his senses back,
And made him kick and cough,
Till wid his frantic strugglin’s
The bullick’s ‘orns broke orf,
If to convince his hearers
This anecdote should fail,
He shows ‘em both the ‘orns and belt
To certify his tale.