Explore "Shearing at Castlereagh" by Andrew Barton Paterson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The bell is set a-ringing, and the engine gives a toot, / There's five and thirty shearers here are shearing for the loot, / So stir yourselves, you penners-up, and shove the sheep along, / The musterers are fetching them a hundred thousand strong, / And make your collie dogs speak up -- what would the buyers say / In London if the wool was late this year from Castlereagh?
The man that 'rung' the Tubbo shed is not the ringer here, / That stripling from the Cooma side can teach him how to shear. / They trim away the ragged locks, and rip the cutter goes, / And leaves a track of snowy fleece from brisket to the nose; / It's lovely how they peel it off with never stop nor stay, / They're racing for the ringer's place this year at Castlereagh.