Down from her rocky peaks Monaro will send her champions
bold;
Victoria will send her “cockies,” too, her honour to uphold.
They’ll be here from Cunnamulla, and the rolling downs
between,
For this is the real convincing ground, these plains of
Riverine.

I have a message to deliver now, before I say farewell,
Some news which all the squatters have commissioned me to
tell;
Your backs well bent, bows long and clean, that’s what they
want to see,
That your tallies may do you credit in this year of Jubilee.


“This year will pay the pound.”—A pound a hundred is
the price for shearing sheep, and several bitterly fought-out
strikes have taken place about it.

“We’ll take no topknots off this year nor trim them to the
toes.”—Owing to the amiability of the squatters and the
excellence of the season, the shearers intend to leave some of
the wool on the sheep, i.e., the topknots on the head and
wool down on the legs.

“To steer sixteen”—sixteen horses in the team.