'Arry an' me is bits of sports;
   When the summer comes around
We gits our sweaters an' guns an' shorts
   An' we seeks out 'untin' ground.
Tennis an' 'ikin' we reckons tame;
   So we shuns the cissy push
An' goes in more for a 'e-man sport
   Shootin', out in the bush.

Week-end 'fore last we 'ad some fun --
   Close up to a record day;
For a real good bag fell to each gun --
   Pea-rific, that's to say.
But the gem of it all was that darn fool bird
   I got while 'e's 'avin' a barf
At the edge of a pool.  'E looked absurd.
   Chee!  'Arry an' me did larf!

By lunch I'd potted a decent bag:
   Three parrots, a thrush an' a jack,
An' 'Arry, two wrens an' a lark an' a mag.
   Then we camps at a creek near the track;
When up comes a coot in a rig absurd
   Wot talks like some bug-'untin' fool.
But 'Arry sez, "'Ist!"  An' 'e points to a bird
   Wot is 'avin' a barf at a pool.

"Wot a charmin' pitcher!" this strange bloke said,
   But I ups with me gun in a jiff
An', jist as the dicky-bird's duckin' 'is 'ead,
   I skittles the beggar stiff.
Well, you should 'a' seen 'ow this strange bloke gapes:
   Lip like a motherless colt.
An' eyes stickin' out like a couple o' grapes.
   Chee!  'Arry an' me did larf!

'E goggles a bit, then 'e goes orf pop,
   But we're two to 'is one, so we smiles.
Then he threatens to give us in charge to a cop.
   Fat chance!  There ain't one in miles!
Red robin it was.  If you only 'ad seen!
   Real trustful-like, 'avin' 'is barf,
When -- Plunk!  An' 'is blood spurts over the green.
   Chee!  Arry an' me did larf!

I can't stop larfin' whenever I think
   Of that comedy there by the creek.
Singin' robin 'e was with a breast all pink.
   (We are goin' again nex' week.)
There 'e was, splashin' all over the place,
   When I darn near blows 'im in 'arf.
An' if you'd saw the look on that strange cove's face!
   Chee!  'Arry an' me did larf!

"Den"
Herald, 26 October 1935, p4