And resumed the best half of the run.

Chorus: For the banks, &c.

’Twas done without reason, for leaving the season
No squatter could stand such a rub;
For it’s useless to squat when the rents are so hot
That one can’t save the price of one’s grub;
And there’s not much to choose ’twixt the banks and the Jews
Once a fellow gets put up a tree;
No odds what I feel, there’s no court of appeal
For a broken-down squatter like me.

Chorus: For the banks, &c.



THE FREE SELECTOR

(A Song of 1861.)


Ye sons of industry, to you I belong,
And to you I would dedicate a verse or a song,
Rejoicing o’er the victory John Robertson has won
Now the Land Bill has passed and the good time has come
Now the Land Bill, &c.

No more with our swags through the bush need we roam
For to ask of another there to give us a home,