The Babbling Brook (1932)
Now, here's a song of the drovers' cooks,
Of the fellows who punch the dough.
Who feed the brutes on the droving routes
Where the travelling stock must go;
Who bake the bread and the pufftaloons,
And the buns and the kidney pies;
Who roar like mad when the meat goes bad,
Or they cant get the bread to rise.
Now, some of these chaps are dinkum cooks.
And some of 'em ought to be dead,
And some of 'em cook from cook'ry books,
And some of 'em out of their 'ead.
They say there's joys in the drover's life,
That city folks never know,
But its choicest joys are kept, my boys,
For the fellows who punch the dough.
Notes
From "Bowyang Bill" in the NSW newspaper the Narromine News and Trangie Advocate Friday 23 December 1932, p. 6.