Prelude
        I have gathered these stories afar,

     The Man from Snowy River
        There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around

     Old Pardon, the Son of Reprieve
        You never heard tell of the story?

     Clancy of the Overflow
        I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better

     Conroy's Gap
        This was the way of it, don't you know —

     Our New Horse
        The boys had come back from the races

     An Idyll of Dandaloo
        On Western plains, where shade is not,

     The Geebung Polo Club
        It was somewhere up the country, in a land of rock and scrub,

     The Travelling Post Office
        The roving breezes come and go, the reed beds sweep and sway,

     Saltbush Bill
        Now this is the law of the Overland that all in the West obey,

     A Mountain Station
        I bought a run a while ago,

     Been There Before
        There came a stranger to Walgett town,

     The Man Who Was Away
        The widow sought the lawyer's room with children three in tow,

     The Man from Ironbark
        It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,

     The Open Steeplechase
        I had ridden over hurdles up the country once or twice,

     The Amateur Rider
        HIM going to ride for us!  HIM —
          with the pants and the eyeglass and all.

     On Kiley's Run
        The roving breezes come and go

     Frying Pan's Theology
        Scene:  On Monaro.

     The Two Devines
        It was shearing-time at the Myall Lake,

     In the Droving Days
        'Only a pound,' said the auctioneer,

     Lost
        'He ought to be home,' said the old man,
          'without there's something amiss.

     Over the Range
        Little bush maiden, wondering-eyed,

     Only a Jockey
        Out in the grey cheerless chill of the morning light,

     How M'Ginnis Went Missing
        Let us cease our idle chatter,

     A Voice from the Town
        I thought, in the days of the droving,

     A Bunch of Roses
        Roses ruddy and roses white,

     Black Swans
        As I lie at rest on a patch of clover

     The All Right