R-J, unfortunately I do not have any recordings of Smokey. I recall he also did a belter rendition of 'Death of Ben Hall'. He had an excellent voice for Oz bush ballads - his German accent would
disappear when he sang.

Ah, Sandra, the turret days were wonderful. We had hundreds attend of a Sunday night. Many heard about us on the hippy routes to the north.

Here is an Australian version of Stephen Foster's 'Gentle Annie'. There are several variants, but the text of an unusual one was given to Danny Spooner by Dave Lumsden who said his family tradition had that it was written for his grandmother's sister, but that he believed it was probably written for a friend. The words were by Jack Cousens who was an itinerant worker around the Murray River in the 1890s. Cousens spent much of his time with the travelling steam-driven threshing machines that travelled from town to town.

GENTLE ANNIE

Now the harvest time is come, Gentle Annie
And the wild oats they are scattered o'er the field
And you'll be anxious to know, Gentle Annie
How your little crop of oats is going to yield

And we're travelling down the road into Barna
And we're following the feeder, Billy Yates
When we arrive and we see the donah
She's the little girl we left at Tommy Waits'

So we must meet again Gentle Annie
As each year we're travelling round your door
And we never will forget you, Gentle Annie
You're the little dark-eyed girl we do adore

Well, your mutton's very sweet, Gentle Annie
And your wines they can't be beat in New South Wales
But you'd better get a fence round your cabbage
Or they'll all be eaten up by the snails

And you'll take my advice, Gentle Annie,
And you're bound to watch old Chaffie going away
With a pack bag hung over his saddle
For he stole some knives and forks the other day

Yes, we must meet again Gentle Annie
Each year as we're travelling round your door
And we never can forget you, Gentle Annie
You're the little dark-eyed girl we all adore

Well, your little bed of oats is fresh, Gentle Annie
And the bullocks they are yoked to go away
You'll be sorry when we're gone, Gentle Annie
For you'll want us then to stop and thresh the hay

But we must say farewell, Gentle Annie,
For you know with you we cannot longer stay
But we hope one and all, Gentle Annie,
To be with you on another threshing day

Here's a version by Martyn Wyndham-Read:

Youtube clip

--Stewie.