The Rambling Road to Denihey's (1920)
(By "John O'Brien")
The rambling road to Denihey'sMeanders o'er the plain;
it wanders in among the trees
And wanders out again.
It does a lap around the map
Whene'er it feels inclined.
And bushmen keen admitted e'en
That road was hard to find. "Its not too good to find," they said;
"It sort o' twists along,
But just keep keepin' straight ahead,
In fact you can't go wrong."
Then every man drew out a plan,
Involved in mysteries,
And in the dust with me discussed
The road to Denihey's. So when the man in town I met,
Enthroned upon his dray,
I sought the safest facts to get
About that winding way,
Now please explain each track and lane,"
Said I to Denihey,
He waved his hand around the land,
And thus directed me. "You go down by the Catholic Church
And round by Mrs. Flynn's,
Then keep on straight for twenty perch
To where the road begins."
But lest I might not grasp aright,
The landmarks thus discussed,
He did a reel across the wheel
And drew it in the dust. "This here," said he, "is the Catholic Church,
That stone is Mrs. FJynn's,
Down here along, say forty perch.
Is where the road begins.
Ye folly that, 'twill land you at
Miss Brady's little store
You'll know it by a pepper tree
She have outside the door. "Now carry that upon your right
And go on straight along;
Keep going till at last you sight
A sign-post pointin' wrong.
The post have been uprooted clean
It's leanin' by a tree
Two miles from here, but this is where
The damn thing ought to be. "Well, anyway, t'aint your concern
It don t do any harm.
You up and take the left hand turn
To Tom McDonnagh's farm.
From there to here is five miles clear
Or p'raps it may be more,
You'll know it by a pepper tree
He have outside the door. "Upon your left you carry that,
And through the fence you pass,
And then you come to Casey's Flat,
With cattle out on grass.
Good colours, too, beef through and through,
And nigh a hundred head,
Man, on their deep broad backs you sleep
Like in a feather bed. "Now keep them cattle on your back,
And, mind you, if in case
You're sorta bushed and off the track
You ask at Regan's place.
That's Peters' lot, not Dinny's what
The Ryans owned before,
You'll know it by a pepper tree
He have outside the door. "But Dinny's house is miles away
Around by Bindyguy,
You'll know it by, now what'll I say
You'll know it by--" said I
"I'll know it by the pepper tree,"
Said Denihey. "You're wrong,
No pepper tree at all have he,
He have a Kurrajong". "Well, now, this track that Dinny goes,
It's not too good to find;
It's right enough for them that knows,
But them as don't you mind,
Might lose their way or get astray,
And end where they begins.
For that there track would land you back
Down here at Mrs. Flynn's. "But 'stead of that, do what I say.
And call at Regan's house,
And if you find them all away.
Don't turn around and rouse;
But keep on straight at any rate.
To where the sheep is sheared,
You'll find him deep among the sheep,
You'll know him by his beard. "But failin' that, you'll be all right,
Keep goin' straight ahead,
And turn the corner when you sight
The station shearin' shed.
Down twenty chain you turn again,
But keep on keepin' straight.
You'll see a stack just off the track,
That brings you to a gate. "Now shut that gate behind you like.
And make sou--east by east,
There's four or five tracks here, but strike
The one that's used the least.
The road from here is not too clear,
But keep on straight you see,
Take every track that branches back
From what you're on," said he. "From there you see six miles away
An openin' in the trees,
And if you don't go all astray
You'll get there by degrees.
You can't go wrong, go straight along,
There's two tracks you might take
And both 'em steer doo west from here,
But one's the firebreak. "Then make for old McPherson's pub,
There's no pub there, you know,
But Mac, he had one in the scrub.
Some twenty year ago.
Now run a line to where the pine
Is growin' pretty dense,
Go straight along, you can't go wrong,
Until you hit a fence. "Now run that fence down twenty chain
To where the wires is cut,
'Twill let you out in Kelly's lane
Not four mile from me hut.
At any rate you'll strike the gate,
The house is pretty poor--
You'll know it by a pepper tree
That grows outside the door." And then my noble Denihey
Rose slowly to his feel,
He lit his pipe, triumphantly.
The lesson was complete.
A maze of lines and cryptic signs
And leads and runner-ups.
Like visions high imagined by
A spider in his cups. He gripped me warmly by the hand,
And friendship lit his eye,
Said he, "I hope you'll understand,
Before I say good-bye,
That when you stray along that way,
You're always welcome quite,
If bushed ye be, five miles from me.
To stop there for the night." (Monsignor Patrick J. Hartigan, who died recently, left many unpublished poems. 'The Road to Denihey's' is one of them.) Notes From the NSW newspaper The Catholic Press 29 Apr 1920 Page 10 .