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Jim’s Australiana Spot – 2UE - September 4, 2016

WORDS AND PHRASES YOUR MUM AND DAD USED

We had an amazing response to childhood rhymes a few weeks ago   - lets remember those things granny used to say.

Questions  
1 CACTUS
  Meaning ruined - the prickly pear infestation
2 BUNG
  Meaning not working - defunct - aboriginal for dead
3 Furphy
  Meaning untrue - water carts used in wartime at training camps

What Sayings do you remember?

'Stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about'
'You'll put someone's eye out with that'
'It will end in tears'
'Up in Annie's room behind the clock'
'A wigwam for a goose's bridle'
'Gone to see a man about a dog'

Rhyming words were popular with mums and grandmas etc  most were Anglo Celtic like

ARGY BARGY/ HOCUS POCUS – Are VERY OLD mock latin used by con artists (ergo or argle bargle = argue … hoc est corpus fillii … from the mass)
FUDDY DUDDY – probably from ‘fussy duchess’ as an insult
HIGGLEDY PIGGLEDY - driving a herd of pigs door to door to be sold
HEEBY JEEBIES – Old Scottish ‘heepy-creep’ to sneak around
HOITY TOITY – high and tight maybe from sailing days ..or from ‘haughty’

A Cowyard Romeo
J W Gordon (Jim Grahame)

  
Young Billy Riley was in love with pretty Kate McBride,
Their parents both had dairy farms out on the Lachlan side;
Modest and innocent the maid, and shy the youthful swain,
Who mostly worshipped from afar, and lilted his refrain:

‘You’re more to me than all the cream that Mum has ever churned,
And dearer than the biggest cheque that Dad has ever earned,
Just like a lonely poddy calf I am when we’re apart,
For you’re the Jersey heifer in the cowyard of my heart.

Your eyes are bluer than the bloom that crowns the lucerne patch,
Your bosom’s whiter than the chicks that snowy leghorns hatch,
This farm will rival Paradise if you will be my wife,
And place your little head within the cowbail of my life.

Your cheek is smooth as rabbit skin, your hair is soft as silk,
And white your teeth as foam that floats on separated milk,
To me your smiles are like the rills I see on little streams,
And I’d imprison you beyond the sliprails of my dreams.

No sapling grows as straight as you, or kurrajong as neat,
The bush can boast no fairer flower, or honey quite as sweet;
Oft, when the cows are obstinate and I am in despair,
I think of you and then I build a dairy in the air.

Oh, when I’m driving out with you, the world seems good to me,
The magpies’ songs are like a flood of silver melody,
I would not swap the old spring cart for fleets of motor cars,
Or change the winding bush track for a roadway to the stars.

I think I hear it from the milk that gurgles in the pail
(E’re break of day when I am crouched half-frozen at the bail)
The old cows seem to know it too, though we’re so far apart,
That you’re the little Jersey in the cowyard of my heart.’

 

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