As I rode in to Burrumbeet,
I met a man with funny feet;
And, when I paused to ask him why
His feet were strange, he rolled his eye
And said the rain would spoil the wheat;
So I rode on to Burrumbeet.

As I rode in to Beetaloo,
I met a man whose nose was blue;
And when I asked him how he got
A nose like that, he answered, "What
Do bullocks mean when they say 'Moo'?"
So I rode on to Beetaloo.

As I rode in to Ballarat,
I met a man who wore no hat;
And, when I said he might take cold,
He cried, "The hills are quite as old
As yonder plains, but not so flat."
So I rode on to Ballarat.

As I rode in to Gundagai,
I met a man and passed him by
Without a nod, without a word.
He turned, and said he'd never heard
Or seen a man so wise as I.
But I rode on to Gundagai.

As I rode homeward, full of doubt,
I met a stranger riding out:
A foolish man he seemed to me;
But, "Nay, I am yourself," said he,
"Just as you were when you rode out."
So I rode homeward, free of doubt.

OUR STREET

In our street, the main street
   Running thro' the town,
You see a lot of busy folk
   Going up and down:

Bag men and basket men,
   Men with loads of hay,
Buying things and selling things
   And carting things away.

The butcher is a funny man,
   He calls me Dandy Dick;
The baker is a cross man,
   I think he's often sick;

The fruiterer's a nice man,
   He gives me apples, too;
The grocer says, "Good morning, boy,
   What can I do for you?"

Of all the men in our street
   I like the cobbler best,
Tapping, tapping at his last
   Without a minute's rest;

Talking all the time he taps,
   Driving in the nails,
Smiling with his old grey eyes--
   (Hush) . . .  telling fairy tales.

THE LITTLE RED HOUSE

Very few grown-up people understand houses. Only children understand
them properly, and, if I understand them just a little, it is because
I knew Sym. Sym and his wife, Emily Ann, lived in the Little Red
House. It was built on a rather big mountain, and there were no other
houses near it. At one time, long ago, the mountain had been covered
all over with a great forest; but men had cut the trees down, all but
one big Blue-gum, which grew near the Little Red House. The Blue-gum
and the Little Red House were great friends, and often had long talks
together. The Blue-gum was a very old tree--over a hundred years
old--and he was proud of it, and often used to tell of the time, long
ago, when blackfellows hunted 'possums in his branches. That was
before the white men came to the mountain, and before there were any
houses near it.

Once upon a time I put a verse about the mountain and the Little Red
House into a book of rhymes which I wrote for grown ups. I don't
think they thought much about it. Very likely they said, "0h, it's
just a house on a hill," and then forgot it, because they were too
busy about other things.

This is the rhyme:

A great mother mountain, and kindly is she,
Who nurses young rivers and sends them to sea.
And, nestled high up on her sheltering lap,
Is a little red house, with a little straw cap
That bears a blue feather of smoke, curling high,
And a bunch of red roses cocked over one eye.

I have tried here to draw the Little Red House for you as well as I
can; and it isn't my fault if it happens to look just a little like
somebody's face. I can't help it, can I? if the stones of the door-step
look something like teeth, or if the climbing roses make the windows
look like a funny pair of spectacles. And if Emily Ann will hang bib
fluffy bobs on the window blinds for tassels, and if they swing about
in the breeze like moving eyes, well, I am not to blame, am I? It
just happens. The only thing I am sorry for is that I couldn't get
the big Blue-gum into the picture. Of course, I could have drawn it
quite easily, but it was too big.

Sym and Emily Ann were fond of the Little Red House, and you may be
sure the Little Red House was fond of them--he was their home. The
only thing that bothered him was that they were sometimes away from
home, and then he was miserable, like all empty houses.

Now, Sym was a tinker--a travelling tinker. He would do a little
gardening and farming at home for a while, and then go off about the
country for a few days, mending people's pots and pans and kettles.
Usually Sym left Emily Ann at home to keep the Little Red House
company, but now and then Emily Ann went with Sym for a trip, and
then the Little Red House was very sad indeed.

One morning, just as the sun was peeping over the edge of the world,
the big Blue-gum woke up and stretched his limbs and waited for the
Little Red House to say "Good morning." The Blue-gum always waited
for the greeting because he was the older, and he liked to have
proper respect shown to him by young folk, but the Little Red House
didn't say a word.

The big Blue-gum waited and waited; but the Little Red House wouldn't
speak.

After a while the Blue-gum said rather crossly, "You seem to be out
of sorts this morning."

But the Little Red House wouldn't say a word.

"You certainly do seem as if you had a pain somewhere," said the
Blue-gum. "And you look funny. You ought to see yourself!"

"Indeed?" snapped the Little Red House, raising his eyebrows just as
a puff of wind went by. "I can't always be playing the fool, like
some people."

"I've lived on this mountain, tree and sapling, for over a hundred
years," replied the big Blue-gum very severely, "and never before
have I been treated with such disrespect. When trees become houses
they seem to lose their manners."

"Forgive me," cried the Little Red House. "I didn't mean to be rude.
I was just listening. There are things going on inside me that I
don't like."

"I hope they aren't ill-treating you," said the Blue-gum.

"They are going to leave me!" sighed the Little Red House.

"And they are laughing quite happily, as if they were glad about it.
There's a nice thing for you!--Going to leave me, and laughing about it!"

"But perhaps you are wrong," said the big Blue-gum, who was not so
hard-hearted as he seemed.

"I always know," moaned the Little Red House. "I can't be mistaken.
Sym was singing his Tinker's song this morning long before the sun
was up. And then I heard him tell Emily Ann not to forget her umbrella.
That