Investigating Flora by Andrew Barton Paterson

'Twas in scientific circles / That the great Professor Brown / Had a world-wide reputation / As a writer of renown. / He had striven finer feelings / In our natures to implant / By his Treatise on the Morals / Of the Red-eyed Bulldog Ant. / He had hoisted an opponent / Who had trodden unawares / On his "Reasons for Bare Patches / On the Female Native Bears". / So they gave him an appointment / As instructor to a band / Of the most attractive females / To be gathered in the land. / 'Twas a "Ladies' Science Circle" -- / Just the latest social fad / For the Nicest People only, / And to make their rivals mad. / They were fond of "science rambles" / To the country from the town -- / A parade of female beauty / In the leadership of Brown. / They would pick a place for luncheon / And catch beetles on their rugs; / The Professor called 'em "optera" / They called 'em "nasty bugs". / Well, the thing was bound to perish / For no lovely woman can / Feel the slightest real interest / In a club without a Man -- / The Professor hardly counted / He was crazy as a loon, / With a countenance suggestive / Of an elderly baboon. / But the breath of Fate blew on it / With a sharp and sudden blast, / And the "Ladies' Science Circle" / Is a memory of the past.

There were two-and-twenty members, / Mostly young and mostly fair, / Who had made a great excursion / To a place called Dontknowwhere, / At the crossing of Lost River, / On the road to No Man's Land. / There they met an old selector, / With a stockwhip in his hand, / And the sight of so much beauty / Sent him slightly "off his nut"; / So he asked them, smiling blandly, / "Would they come down to the hut? " / "I am come," said the Professor, / In his thin and reedy voice, / "To investigate your flora, / Which I hear is very choice. " / The selector stared dumbfounded, / Till at last he found his tongue: / "To investigate my Flora! / Oh, you howlin' Brigham Young! / Why, you've two-and-twenty wimmen -- / Reg'lar slap-up wimmen, too! / And you're after little Flora! / And a crawlin' thing like you! / Oh, you Mormonite gorilla! / Well, I've heard it from the first / That you wizened little fellers / Is a hundred times the worst!

But a dried-up ape like you are, / To be marchin' through the land / With a pack of lovely wimmen / Well, I cannot understand! " / "You mistake," said the Professor, / In a most indignant tone / While the ladies shrieked and jabbered / In a fashion of their own -- / "You mistake about these ladies, / I'm a lecturer of theirs; / I am Brown, who wrote the Treatise / On the Female Native Bears! / When I said we wanted flora, / What I meant was native flowers. " / "Well, you said you wanted Flora, / And I'll swear you don't get ours! / But here's Flora's self a-comin', / And it's time for you to skip, / Or I'll write a treatise on you, / And I'll write it with the whip!

Now, I want no explanations; / Just you hook it out of sight, / Or you'll charm the poor girl some'ow! " / The Professor looked in fright: / She was six feet high and freckled, / And her hair was turkey-red. / The Professor gave a whimper, / And threw down his bag and fled, / And the Ladies' Science Circle, / With a simultaneous rush, / Travelled after its Professor, / And went screaming through the bush!

At the crossing of Lost River, / On the road to No Man's Land, / Where the grim and ghostly gumtrees / Block the view on every hand, / There they weep and wail and wander, / Always seeking for the track, / For the hapless old Professor / Hasn't sense to guide 'em back; / And they clutch at one another, / And they yell and scream in fright / As they see the gruesome creatures / Of the grim Australian night; / And they hear the mopoke's hooting, / And the dingo's howl so dread, / And the flying foxes' jabber / From the gum trees overhead; / While the weird and wary wombats, / In their subterranean caves, / Are a-digging, always digging, / At those wretched people's graves; / And the pike-horned Queensland bullock, / From his shelter in the scrub, / Has his eye on the proceedings / Of the Ladies' Science Club.

The Bulletin, 9 December 1899