A Railway Ballad

Adelaide Times Tuesday 20 April 1858 p. 3.
Old chap, cried Thomson to Payne,
As the day's remarkably fine,
Let's put ourselves into the train,
For a trip on the Gawler Line.

Now off, grind, grind, we go,
Jiggle and joggle we jump ;
Ten carriages all in a row,
Hooked on to each others rump.

Huzza! for the Gawler train,
Where nothing its speed can rebut,
As it whirls us might and main,
Through gates whether open or shut.

A whistle, a yell, and a snort
As we reach North Adelaide Station,
But we're presently pulled up short,
For truck's in conflagration.

Here, water ! water ! roared Payne,
With a most tremendous shout ;
The engineer's here in the train,
Run, Thompson, and rouse him out.

For water it's useless to bawl,
And the gatekeeper grinned in his face,
For it's very well known to us all
That there is'nt a drop in the place.

So on, whiz, whiz, we passed,
While the sparks continued to spout,
Till we reached the next station at last,
And got the fire put out.

Huzza ! for the Gawler line,
Shouting, screaming, and bawling ;
The management's superfine,
With a burning truck and tarpaulin.

Now again grind, grind, we go,
Jiggle and joggle mid jump,
Ten carriages all in a row,
Hooked on to each others rump !

A whistle, a shriek, and a roar !
And how the stoker cursed ;
While somebody screamed from before,
" By golly ! the boiler's burst."

Payne's head reached the carriage top,
With a sudden thundering rap,
While Thompson pitched with a flop
In an opposite lady's lap.

Poor Payne was assisted out,
They bandaged his head with towels,
While the lady walked groaning about
She was taken so bad in her bowels.

A weary hour goes by—
Again whiz, rattle, and grunt,
And off goes the Gawler fly
With another machine in front.

Success to this northern line,
And its regular weekly fix ;
If you leave the Station at nine,
You may get to Gawler by six.


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