Here you will find the Poem The Stockyard Liar of poet William Henry Ogilvie
If ever you're handling a rough one There's bound to be perched on the rails Of the Stockyard some grizzled old tough one Whose flow of advice never fails; There are plenty of course, who aspire To make plain that you're only a dunce, But the most insupportable liar Is the man who has ridden 'em once. He will tell you a tale and a rum one, With never a smile on his face, How he broke for old Somebody Some-one At some unapproachable place; How they bucked and they snorted and squealed, How he spurred 'em and flogged 'em, and how He would gallop 'em round till they reeled - But he's 'getting too old for it now'. How you're standing too far from her shoulder, Or too jolly close to the same, How he could have taught you to hold her In the days when he 'followed the game'; He will bustle, annoy and un-nerve us Till even our confidence fails - O Shade of old Nimrod! preserve us From the beggar that sits on the rails! How your reins you are holding too tightly, Your girths might as well be unloosed, How 'young chaps' don't handle them rightly, And horses don't buck 'like they used'; Till at last, in a bit of passion, You ask him in choicest 'Barcoo' To go and be hanged in a fashion That turns the whole atmosphere blue! And the chances are strong the old buffer Has been talking for something to say, And never rode anything rougher Than the shaft of old Somebody's dray; And the horses he thinks he has broken Are clothes-horses sawn out of pine, And his yarns to us simply betoken The start of a senile decline. There are laws for our proper protection From murder and theft and the rest, But the criminal wanting inspection Is riding a rail in the West; And the law that the country requires At the hands of her statesmen of sense Is the law that makes meat of the liars That can sit a rough buck - on the fence!