Competition

Highly Commended

Three Times Lucky
by Jeff Ferguson
Mt. Gravatt, Qld

 The Barcoo was as hot and dry
As the inside of a stove
When onto Old Bob’s property
Came the strangest-looking cove.

He wore a pair of loud plus-fours,
A Coolie hat from China ,
A canvas bag that claimed he was
‘A Dinki-di Diviner’.

Well, Bob was pleased as Punch to hear
This bloke could find him water
And if he did, he promised him
His first-born, spinster daughter.

The weird cove then took out a stick
Like the forked tongue of a snake
And waddled all about the place
With a keen Bob in his wake.

The forked stick trembled and then dipped
Then pointed at the ground.
“Dig here!” exclaimed the plus-foured bloke,
“It’s water, I’ll be bound!”

Bob went and got himself a spade
and then commenced to dig,
while wondering if he was mad
to trust a trembling twig.

He’d only dug a little way
Through the hot, hard-baked topsoil
When through the hole that he had dug
Came a steady stream of oil.

Meanwhile the little dowser-bloke
Was continuing his trade;
“I’ve found another spot to dig.
You’d better bring your spade”.

This time Old Bob dug very deep
‘Til he was almost buggered;
But soon forgot his weariness –
He’d found a huge, gold nugget.

The little chap looked on and sighed,
“I’m just a ruddy failure!
In England I’d find H2O
But not here in Australia !”

“Forget it, mate!” replied Old Bob,
“Who needs the bloody water!
I’ve gained three ways, with gold and oil
And trading off my daughter!”