THE LITTLE TOWN OF LINDA
(G. A. Finn)
The little town of Linda lies locked in from the sun,
The little town of Linda I first knew in nineteen one.
Oh, the little town of Linda was then a verdant scene,
Her hills agog with mining camps and cottages between;
The outlook was impressive then. For she was built to stay
But amalgamation sealed her doom and shattered her array.
The little town of Linda now lies scowling at the sky.
The little town of Linda where I lived in days gone by;
Darwin and ‘Jukes’ were working then, likewise the Iron Blow.
The Basin Line was in full swing and Crotty all aglow,
But deserted are those centres now, depleted and gone west,
Wild ‘roos are roaming where I toiled and badgers walk abreast.
The little town of Linda now lies languid ‘neath the rocks.
Deserted are the family homes, now barren, vacant blocks;
With a few frugal camps remaining she scarce survives the strain.
But that little town of Linda some day may boom again
For there is gold in Darwin Ranges, I saw it won and spent.
There's wealth in Lake Jukes Mountain where I roughed it in a tent.
There's silver at the Sixteen Mile, where once stood Shepperd’s store,
Which may mean life to Linda yet, like the roaring days of yore.
But back memories of the Linda oft leap before my gaze,
When I view it from the great North Lyell and think of former days:
I think of Melly Jackson when he was at his best,
Jim Dier and Harry Gardiner and the Hogans long gone west.
I think of old black Ossy and hectic nights recall
When we sang and danced til daylight in Percy Waxman’s hall;
Where pals would make you welcome and girls would make you sigh.
Oh, the Linda was outstanding in those roaring days gone by.