The Newsletter: an Australian Paper for Australian People

Where Macarthy Failed.

We wonder still, at Broken Hill,
Why it didn't end our trouble
When Macarthy came, our tanks to fill,
And burst the blooming bubble.

The mining crowd talked long and loud,
For they thought they'd have their nil,
When Macarthy came to burst the cloud
Up here at Broken Hill

He said he would, and thought he could,
And he went in with a will,
But his thunder seemed to do no good,
Up here at Broken Hill.

When Macarthy came, that man of fame,
He blazed away like thunder,
But he never brought a drop of rain,
Which made us all wonder.

To bring us rain he tried amain,
But found to his disgust,
In place of bursting clouds of rain,
He was bursting clouds of dust.

When this he found, he left the ground,
And so I think he oughter,
For there isn't much in hanging round
Where a fellow can't strike water.

Steele Grey,

Barraba, N.S.W.