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ImetJack Ellis in town to-day—

Jack Ellis—my old mate, Jack.

Ten years ago, from the Castlereagh,

We carried our swags together away

To the Never-Again, Out Back.

But times have altered since those old days,

And the times have changed the men.

Ah, well! there’s little to blame or praise—

Jack Ellis and I have tramped long ways

On different tracks since then.

His hat was battered, his coat was green,

The toes of his boots were through,

But the pride was his! It was I felt mean—

I wished that my collar was not so clean,

Nor the clothes I wore so new.

He saw me first, and he knew ’twas I—

The holiday swell he met.

Why have we no faith in each other? Ah, why?—

He made as though he would pass me by,

For he thought that I might forget.

He ought to have known me better than that,

By the tracks we tramped far out—

The sweltering scrub and the blazing flat,

When the heat came down through each old felt hat

In the hell-born western drought.

* * * * * * *

He took my hand in a distant way

(I thought how we parted last),

And we seemed like men who have nought to say

And who meet—“Good-day”, and who part—“Good-day,”

Who never have shared the past.

I asked him in for a drink with me—

Jack Ellis—my old mate, Jack—

But his manner no longer was careless and free,

He followed, but not with the grin that he

Wore always in days Out Back.

I tried to live in the past once more—

Or the present and past combine,

But the days between I could not ignore—

I couldn’t help notice the clothes he wore,

And he couldn’t but notice mine.

He placed his glass on the polished bar,

And he wouldn’t fill up again;

For he is prouder than most men are—

Jack Ellis and I have tramped too far

On different tracks since then.

He said that he had a mate to meet,

And “I’ll see you again,” said he,

Then he hurried away through the crowded street,

And the rattle of buses and scrape of feet

Seemed suddenly loud to me.