When a man grows old and his balls grow cold and the end of his nob turns blue, When it's bent in the middle like a one-string fiddle, he can tell a yarn or two. So find me a seat and stand me a drink and a tale to you I'll tell, Of Dead-Eye Dick and Mexico Pete and a harlot called Eskimo Nell. ... [ILLUSTRATED]
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Woroni (Canberra, ACT : 1950 - 2007), Mon 22 Feb 1971, Page 12
It's easy and takes two shakes of a lamb's tail!
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