G'day again Celtaddict (& evreyone else...),

I (vaguely) recollected that Don Brian, had collected something very like the lines quotes above (02 Sept, 2005) by Jim Dixon. I asked Don, at last Friday's Beer & Cheese Night ("themed singing session") and Don recited back exactly what was printed in "Transmissions" ... so it was probably Don that fielded that particular query.

I've pasted in the relevant texts fron Don's email replies to me. They don't directly help on your query - but they do indicate a body of related rhymes! The final 'poem' is a development of a "Farewell" piece that has been used to curse the hot north of Australia (Queensland and Northern Territory) as well as Tasmania's convict stations back in the 19th century

Regards,

Bob

Don Brian's emails:

Thanks Bob
The version I heard was:

"What's the use of talking when you're stony broke and walking
and the tucker bag is empty and the fish refuse to bite"

I recorded it from Clarrie Moon of Chiltern VIC in 1977

Also (recorded) from Rocky Dickerson in Broken Hill 11-8-77:

You ought to see bagmen today
They're jumping trains along the way
They never fear if p'lice are near
But if they're caught they must appear
The magistrate will not relent
and into some small gaol they'e sent
When they come out the p'lice they shout
This town's too hot, you must get out .
So once again with swag on back
the poor old bagman hits the track
The track is long and weary now
The bagman must get along some how.

And from Sam Byrne Broken Hill 1977:

I'm only a humble swagman
looking for work in vain
I'm out in all the weathers
sunshine, wind and rain
And when I get tired of walking
I try and jump a train
But what's the use of talking
I'm a bagman just the same.

Do you know any further the background to these
Perhaps a mudcatter might

Don

A second email from Don Brian

G'day Bob
Copied from the back of the door to a room in the Laggan Hall:

"A swagman committing suicide"
by Matt Allen Swaggie Oct 31 1930

Farewell land of kangaroos
native dogs and cockatoos
fleas and ticks and bulldog ants
I'm leaving you my pants.
Also shirts and other rags
billycan and tuckerbags
So fare ye well you good old tramps
never more shall I see your camps
on lonely roads or in green lanes
or on the hills or on the plains
Farewell, things might be much better
this ends the life of Kenny Ketter.

Matt Allen