The Motley Crew.

[thestoryteller]

Sometime later, as I ambled around the grounds, I came across a group of men standing in front of a shed set up as a temporary bar. Among them was Mauler Mansfield celebrating his win, apparently drinking rum to kill his aches and pains. After securing a drink for myself I felt the urge to congratulate him on his win and before long we were fully engrossed in conversation and some serious drinking. He told me his real name was Kelly Mansfield and then introduced me to his four mates. Silent Tom, Barney O'Neil, The Busted Oven and The Wild Irishman. They were all out of work and had been tramping about the country following shows, using their various skills to make ends meet. Once the boys found out I had a vehicle and a few bob in my pocket they seemed to stick like glue.

We then travelled together, the boys working the various shows from Bathurst to Dubbo. Their skills were many and varied and I must admit outright dishonest at times. Silent Tom was a bit of a card sharp extracting money from folk through card tricks and guessing games. Kelly worked on the boxers while the rest took advantage of the local folk any way they could. While at Dubbo, Kelly reckoned I should have a go myself at boxing, as he'd been showing me a few pointers, and figured I'd do all right.


THE MOTLEY CREW

Depression was now on the land and work was hard to find,
the roads were cramped with blokes and swags so many of their kind.
North west was on my mind again but not by flam’in train.
this time I had my Hupmobile to head that way again.

So many friends one meets in life like Louie and old Reg,
while others just attach themselves like moss to some rock ledge.
In Bathurst town I met a crowd, a motley looking crew
who’d managed to survive in life with skills they’d learnt to do.

Like Mauling Kelly Mansfield who had learnt the fighting game
and fought in rings at country shows and took on all who came.
The Mauler took on Sharman’s boys and wooed the cheering crowd
and kept us all in O.P. rum and really did dis proud.

Old Silent Tom was aptly named from him you’d seldom hear
until he hit a country show and then swung into gear.
A cardsharp of renown he was and Tom kept folk in awe.
He blinded them with sleight of hand and fleeced them, that’s for sure.

And Barney O’Neil the Irishman he hung around the bars
and looked for unsuspecting souls, though he called them galahs.
Then in return for his wild yarns of days on outback runs,
he conned them all to shout him grog and called them mates and chums.

The Busted Oven, a shearer’s cook, who’d given the game away
had earned his name from his last shed or so the rumours say.
He piled the oven high with food and tried to keep it hot
when suddenly the oven burst and lost the whole darn lot.

Wild Irish was the last of them, though surely not the least,
he fancied he could run a bit and took on man and beast.
Sometimes his temper let him down and got into a blue
though if his foe proved far too good he simply just shot through.

From Bathurst town we headed north, this motley crew and I
and worked the Shows at every town and tried to drink them dry.
They shared their wily ways with me and loved to be carefree,
from Bathurst through to Nyngan town it was just one big spree.

But at long last my luck ran out and I was stony broke
and saw no future in this game no not for this young bloke.
I’d made my mind up there and then and knew just what to do
and headed out to find a job and left that motley crew.

© Merv Webster

From the book In Days Gone By.
http://users.tpg.com.au/thegrey/InDaysGoneBy.htm