The Nellies

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thestoryteller
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The Nellies

Post by thestoryteller » Mon Jun 13, 2016 6:09 pm

THE NELLIES

Australian historians, though having penned the tales
about our nation's bushrangers, who mostly were all males,
did somehow fail recording facts on one outlandish gang,
who sneered at all authority and didn't give a hang.

They terrorised the Warrego in Queensland’s far south-west,
despite the thousand pound reward put up for their arrest.
This trio were the meanest kind, of terrible renown
and robbed the haberdasheries in almost every town.

The leader was a buxom lass, the fearless Nellie Wunn,
and with her rode sweet Nellie Court and doughy Nellie Dunn.
The Nellies were all hated by the women of the west,
as they would take the finest clothes and leave them with the rest.

This gang would use the goods they stole and gate crash any ball,
and trip the light fantastic with their men folk, one and all.
Then as the stroke of midnight gonged they simply up and went,
but left their trade mark lipstick kiss implanted on each gent.

Though like all those who rode that path and went outside the law,
the Nellies run of luck ran out and they would ride no more.
All three would face the hangman's noose, a grisly kind of fate,
and only by the good Lord's grace could they escape that date.

By that I mean, should it occur, the process failed three times,
the Lord was seen to intervene, which cancelled out their crimes.
First up to face the gallows was the leader Nellie Wunn,
but when the trapdoor failed three times her freedom had been won.

Young Nellie Court was next in line when, strike me, don't you know,
the trapdoor failed three times again and so they let her go.
Then poor old doughy Nellie Dunn marched up the gallows stairs
and as the noose went 'round her neck she quickly said her prayers.

But as the executioner reached down to do the deed,
poor doughy Nell cried, "Wait a bit! Before you do proceed
I think I see what is at fault," then went on to relate,
"the lever pin has fallen out and that's your problem mate."

Merv Webster

From the book Keeping the Culture.

The inspiration for this poem came to me as I was watching a chap giving a public discourse and as he leant on the podium's apparatus, which held his notes, it collapsed from underneath him. The mind then began to wander and being a lover of our bushranging history my imagination and an old yarn did the rest.
Some days your the pidgeon and other days the statue.

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