Эндрю Бартон Патерсон (Andrew Barton Paterson)

Been There Before

There came a stranger to Walgett town, 
To Walgett town when the sun was low, 
And he carried a thirst that was worth a crown, 
Yet how to quench it he did not know; 
But he thought he might take those yokels down, 
The guileless yokels of Walgett town. 
They made him a bet in a private bar, 
In a private bar when the talk was high, 
And they bet him some pounds no matter how far 
He could pelt a stone, yet he could not shy 
A stone right over the river so brown, 
The Darling River at Walgett town. 

He knew that the river from bank to bank 
Was fifty yards, and he smiled a smile 
As he trundled down; but his hopes they sank, 
For there wasn’t a stone within fifty mile; 
For the saltbush plain and the open down 
Produce no quarries in Walgett town. 

The yokels laughed at his hopes o’erthrown, 
And he stood awhile like a man in a dream; 
Then out of his pocket he fetched a stone, 
And pelted it over the silent stream – 
He’d been there before; he had wandered down 
On a previous visit to Walgett town.

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