The Dear Old Town

When I first saw the dear old town
Emus went walking up and down,
Or in a doorway poked a head
Asking in hope, a crust of bread.
Wagga was bush in those far days;
What now are streets were trodden ways:
Between the trees, and through the grass,
Where kangaroos walked. sometimes pass-
Houses were slab and roofs were bark,
No windows, then, a child might mark;
But just a shutter thing with hide,
Which sun or wind, or rain defied ....