Good one! for me the simpleton, Please explain ha ha (one won, two too....er)?!
Here's a poem by the famous Anon (cousin to Trad). Harry Morant? From the old edition of Horses and Horsemen, collected by Jack Pollard. I like it, as I had a very faithful little Waler stallion, a pony, that threw to the Timor (the only white they have is a snip and/or star). He had a star and snip.
The Little Worn-Out Pony.
There's a little worn-out pony this side of Hogan's shack
With a snip upon his muzzle and a mark upon his back;
Just a common little pony is what most people say,
But then of course they've never heard what happened in his day:
I was droving on the Leichhardt with a mob of pikers wild,
When this tibby little pony belonged to Hogan's child.
One night it started raining - we were camping on a rise,
When the wind blew cold and bleakly and thunder shook the skies;
The lightning cut the figure eight around the startled cattle,
In a fraction of an instant the wild mob became insane,
Careering through the timber helter skelter for the plain.
The timber fell before them like grass before a scythe,
And heavy rain in torrents poured from the grimly blackened sky;
The mob rushed ever onward through the slippery sodden ground,
While the men and I worked frantically to veer their heads around;
And then arose an awful cry - it came from Jimmy Rild.
For there, between the saplings straight ahead was Hogan's child.
I owned not man or devil, I had not prayed since when,
But I called upon the blessed Lord to show His mercy then;
I shut my eyes and ground my teeth, the end I dared not see
Great God! the cattle - a thousand head - were crashing through the trees,
"God pity us bush children in our darkest hour of need,"
Were the words I prayed although I followed neither church nor creed.
Then my right-hand man was shouting, the faithful Jimmy Rild,
"Did you see it, Harry, see the way he saved that child?"
"Saved! Saved, did you say?" and I shot upright with a bound,
"Yes, saved," he said, "indeed old man, the child is safe and sound.
I was feeling pretty shaky and was gazing up the track,
Just then a pony galloped, the kid hopped on its back."
"A blinding flash of lightning then the thunder's rolling crack;
With two hands clasped upon his mane he raced toward the shack."
"Good heavens, man," I shouted then, "if that is truly so,
To blazes with the cattle, to the shanty we must go."
We reached Bill Hogan's shanty in fifteen minutes ride,
Then left out horses standing and wildly rushed inside.
The little child was there unhurt but quivering with fear,
And Hogan told us, "Yes thank God, there's the pony brought her here."
There's a ittle worn-out pony just this side of Hogan's shack,
With a snip upon his muzzle and a mark upon his back.
Just a common little pony is what most people say,
But I doubt if there's his equal in the pony world today.
