SHEARERS-PAST AND PRESENT.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 56, 25 January 1868, Page 3

SHEARERS-PAST AND PRESENT.

The shearer is a man picked out of the thousand, lie is unique. His manners and coustoms are different to those of other men. He is to be studied, like a rare animal. He is an abnormal growth upon the body politic. Shearers now are different beings to what they were some years ago. The Shearer of twelve years back was quite another person to the offhanded well-to-do fellow who condecends to take “ 15s. a hundred” for hacking the wool off your half-bred merinos. The old shearer is given to walking. He is brown, or rather mahogany-coloured. His face is seamed with many a wrinkle. His hands are gnarled and knotted with age and Labour. He is prone to wearing blue jumpers much opened in the throat, and his brawng, brick dust coloured chest is exposed. He dresses in moleskin. His swag is small. He smokes whenever he does not chew. He always has a tin cap on the bowl of his pipe. He can swear c onsiderably. He has, as a rule, been jjsent out at his country's expense. He is known by a soubriquet —usually uncomplimentary. He is tamiliar in bush He knocks down his cheque with immense glee. If asked by the “boss” “what brought him out here?” he will reply, “ Setting a fishpond on fire!” and laugh grimly. He can show scars on the back. Round the shearers fire he will not disdain to tell tales of the “ other side.He has a general contempt for the owners of runs, and calls them “blokes.” “coves,” and “bosses,” with prefixed adjectives of unpleasant meanings. He always carries a billy.” He is fond of te He will “ coil” under a shady tree, same half mile from the home station, nntil sundown, and then hobble up to the overseer’s hut, when the following dialogue will take place:— Shearer.—Evening, Sir. Overseer.—(Smoking and tailing a stock* whip.)— Good evening, my man! Shearer. —Want any hands, Sir? Overseer.—(Eyeing shearer slowly over.) —Where were you working last? Shearer.—Bandicoot Plains—(after a—pause) shepherding. Overseer.—Ha! hum! (to dog) go out o’ that Jock. (Looking at shearer.) Well we don’t want any hands just now. Shearer.—(Trying to look melancholy a nd shuifling his feet.) Ar! hem! Qan I stop here to night, Sir ? Overseer (Who has been waiting for the queft 0:1 all along),—Yes go down to that hut by the wooshed! Shearer (shouldering his swag). “Thank ye. sir,” (aside) “Hungry-looking cove you! Salt junk, I’ll bet a note.” This shearer cannot read, but he can play euchre with much success. He is cunning in bush lore. He can cook like a Soyer in the rough. He makes “spotted devils,” “ pufftilooners,” and other quaint compounds of sugar and flour. He despises fences. He has a mortal antipathy to “ bullock-punchers He cannot ride much. He prides himself on his shearing. He can “ do” his 160 a day—if you let him. He is great at coiling. He sings bush songs. He detests the police. He is giving to swearing that his “tally” is wrong in the shed. He always grumbles. He drinks brandy neat. He can build anything with an axe and a piece of green hide. He is useful but annoying. The new shearer is always “ flash.,” He knows all about racing. He reads “ sporting news.” He is young, and “limber on his jiins.” He is not bad at a rough-and-tumble fight in a public-house bar. He knows all sorts of dodges at wrestling. He can give “cross buttockers” and “back falls” innumerable. He does not care for standing up fights much. He rides, especially buckjumpers, but he does not care for fences. Is usually decently mounted. A bit of brokendown blood, “bought off a man in Ballarat” or a “ young one,” from his last station. He drinks smokes, and curses in equal proportions. He can shear well if he likes. He is apt to “run” his neighbours. He objects much to have his sheep “raddled” He is always suggesting “smoke oh!” and wanting to knock-off. He is proud of his shears, and keeps their points covered with leather. He will, however, always abuse the ones obtainable on the station. He is great on “ stones;” he will by two or three in the course of a “ shed.” and two bottles of oil to each stone; he will endeavour to repudiate the same when he is “ getting his check.” HeJ amuses himself in his leisure ■ moments by cracking stockwhips, at which he is an adept. He is a great hand at getting a good “ pen,” and is not above slipping a contumacious ram over into hia neighbour’s. He has some preference for town, and takes his trip to Ballarat every year. He dresses in “store clothes” on Sunday, and if he does not loaf about the kitchen talking to the housemaids, will ride over to the nearest publichouse—if there is one handj\ He is either economical or madly extravagant, and will either become a well-to-do free-sclector, or die of delirum tremens. “ Australasian.”