During the 1890s a prospector named Paddy Hannan found gold in what was to become known as “The Golden Mile” at
This area produced more gold over the years than any other in the world, unlike a lot of gold mining areas which have been mined out
Paddy Hannan has become a legend known as the king of
The town, now grown to an outback city came into existence only because of the gold strike.
The next post will be about bringing water to the area in the early 1900s.
The King of
One night I was strolling, the time seemed to drag.
I paused for a drink from the bronze water bag
That old Paddy Hannan holds out all the while
And I’ll swear that he slipped me a wink and a smile.
Bourne on the breeze came the throb of the mines
And up in the city the midnightly chimes,
And the ghosts of the past and Paddy and I
Delved in the realms of the days long gone by.
From all the world over adventurers came
To gamble their lives on the
They’d fight and they’d laugh; they’d love and they’d live
And they’d die as they sought what the earth had to give.
For how many times has the story been told…
On the fields we all know there are two kinds of gold.
There’s the gold that men die for, and struggle, and strive
And the gold we call water that keeps man alive.
We can only imagine the perils and fears,
The hardships, the heartbreaks, their triumphs and tears,
Dame Fortune was fickle; how many she spurned!
She smiled upon others, some never returned.
Today there are younger strong hands at the reins
But the gallant old prospector always remains.
He’s there in the sunset, the trees and the dust;
His spirit is ours and his land is our trust.
He’s there sure enough in the big school of mines;
In the books, in the children, those brave little vines,
For the soul does not die as it passes the years
And what braver men than the old pioneers?
So old Paddy Hannan sits there on his throne
And dreams of the past and the days he has known.
The clothes that he wears are not much for style
But who cares for that on the old Golden Mile.
Now there’s the pipeline, the railways, the planes
And oceans of water that flow down the drains
Where Paddy fought hunger and desert and blacks
And ventured the farthest while others turned back.
Yes, old Paddy Hannan in sunshine and rain
Dwells in the street that carries his name;
His majesty watches out there all alone…..
The King of Kalgoorlie on his street corner throne.
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2 comments:
Good one Peter ~ I haven't heard all of that ~ is it a song by Tex?
Anyway it is interesting.
It is much cooler here thankfully
but no rain to speak of.
Hi Merle, yes Tex wrote it, probably as a song, I don't know if he ever sang it himself, but Slim Dusty had a very good version of it, (as we would expect from Slim.)
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