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Updated: May 14, 2025
From the newspaper, and from the map, I have made a collection of curious names of Australasian towns, with the idea of making a poem out of them: Tumut Takee Murriwillumba Bowral Ballarat Mullengudgery Murrurundi Wagga-Wagga Wyalong Murrumbidgee Goomeroo Wolloway Wangary Wanilla Worrow Koppio Yankalilla Yaranyacka Yackamoorundie Kaiwaka Coomooroo Tauranga Geelong Tongariro Kaikoura Wakatipu Oohipara Waitpinga Goelwa Munno Para Nangkita Myponga Kapunda Kooringa Penola Nangwarry Kongorong Comaum Koolywurtie Killanoola Naracoorte Muloowurtie Binnum Wallaroo Wirrega Mundoora Hauraki Rangiriri Teawamute Taranaki Toowoomba Goondiwindi Jerrilderie Whangaroa Wollongong Woolloomooloo Bombola Coolgardie Bendigo Coonamble Cootamundra Woolgoolga
The wallabi sighs for the Murrubidgee, For the velvety sod of the Munno Parah, Where the waters of healing from Muloowurtie Flow dim in the gloaming by Yaranyackah; The Koppio sorrows for lost Wolloway, And sigheth in secret for Murrurundi, The Whangeroo wombat lamenteth the day That made him an exile from Jerrilderie;
"Oh, that is it, Clump consolation, eh? Well, I must get a pipe some time and try it," I said. "No, Massa Bob," joined in Juno, who was knocking out the ashes from her pipe on the head of the fire-dog "no, Massa Bob you'se munno 'moke. 'Spects, ef you'se do, you find de way tur constollaton, dat ole Clump talk of, cum tru much tribble-laison he! he! he!" I had to laugh at the old woman's wit.
They live through all their sense at the same time; and, being philosophers without knowing it, keep the measure of their desires in accordance with the brevity of life. I approach a much-patronised tavern, and see inscribed above the entrance this quatrain in Neopolitan patois: "Amice, alliegre magnammo e bevimmo N fin che n'ce stace noglio a la lucerna: Chi sa s'a l'autro munno n'ce verdimmo?
"Munno.... It's not exactly a sermon, you know. It's just kind of a friendly talk, you know, in a common-sense way." Mr. Kernan deliberated. Mr. M'Coy said: "Father Tom Burke, that was the boy!" "O, Father Tom Burke," said Mr. Cunningham, "that was a born orator. Did you ever hear him, Tom?" "Did I ever hear him!" said the invalid, nettled. "Rather! I heard him...."
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