The Travelling Post Office

by Banjo Paterson 1864-1941 The roving breezes come and go, the reed-beds sweep and sway, The sleepy river murmers low, and loiters on its way, It is the land of lots o’ time along the Castlereagh. The old man’s son had left the farm, he found it full and slow, He drifted to the greatContinue reading “The Travelling Post Office”