'Peter Anderson And Co.' by Henry Lawson


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He had offices in Sydney, not so many years ago,
And his shingle bore the legend `Peter Anderson and Co.',
But his real name was Careless, as the fellows understood --
And his relatives decided that he wasn't any good.
'Twas their gentle tongues that blasted any `character' he had --
He was fond of beer and leisure -- and the Co. was just as bad.
It was limited in number to a unit, was the Co. --
'Twas a bosom chum of Peter and his Christian name was Joe.

'Tis a class of men belonging to these soul-forsaken years:
Third-rate canvassers, collectors, journalists and auctioneers.
They are never very shabby, they are never very spruce --
Going cheerfully and carelessly and smoothly to the deuce.
Some are wanderers by profession, `turning up' and gone as soon,
Travelling second-class, or steerage (when it's cheap they go saloon);
Free from `ists' and `isms', troubled little by belief or doubt --
Lazy, purposeless, and useless -- knocking round and hanging out.
They will take what they can get, and they will give what they can give,
God alone knows how they manage -- God alone knows how they live!
They are nearly always hard-up, but are cheerful all the while --
Men whose energy and trousers wear out sooner than their smile!
They, no doubt, like us, are haunted by the boresome `if' or `might',
But their ghosts are ghosts of daylight -- they are men who live at night!

Peter met you with the comic smile of one who knows you well,
And is mighty glad to see you, and has got a joke to tell;
He could laugh when all was gloomy, he could grin when all was blue,
Sing a comic song and act it, and appreciate it, too.
Only cynical in cases where his own self was the jest,
And the humour of his good yarns made atonement for the rest.
Seldom serious -- doing business just as 'twere a friendly game --
Cards or billiards -- nothing graver.And the Co. was much the same.

They tried everything and nothing 'twixt the shovel and the press,
And were more or less successful in their ventures -- mostly less.
Once they ran a country paper till the plant was seized for debt,
And the local sinners chuckle over dingy copies yet.

They'd been through it all and knew it in the land of Bills and Jims --
Using Peter's own expression, they had been in `various swims'.
Now and then they'd take an office, as they called it, -- make a dash
Into business life as `agents' -- something not requiring cash.
(You can always furnish cheaply, when your cash or credit fails,
With a packing-case, a hammer, and a pound of two-inch nails --
And, maybe, a drop of varnish and sienna, too, for tints,
And a scrap or two of oilcloth, and a yard or two of chintz).
They would pull themselves together, pay a week's rent in advance,
But it never lasted longer than a month by any chance.

The office was their haven, for they lived there when hard-up --
A `daily' for a table cloth -- a jam tin for a cup;
And if the landlord's bailiff happened round in times like these
And seized the office-fittings -- well, there wasn't much to seize --
They would leave him in possession.But at other times they shot
The moon, and took an office where the landlord knew them not.
And when morning brought the bailiff there'd be nothing to be seen
Save a piece of bevelled cedar where the tenant's plate had been;
There would be no sign of Peter -- there would be no sign of Joe
Till another portal boasted `Peter Anderson and Co.'

And when times were locomotive, billiard-rooms and private bars --
Spicy parties at the cafe -- long cab-drives beneath the stars;
Private picnics down the Harbour -- shady campings-out, you know --
No one would have dreamed 'twas Peter --
no one would have thought 'twas Joe!
Free-and-easies in their `diggings', when the funds began to fail,
Bosom chums, cigars, tobacco, and a case of English ale --
Gloriously drunk and happy, till they heard the roosters crow --
And the landlady and neighbours made complaints about the Co.
But that life! it might be likened to a reckless drinking-song,
For it can't go on for ever, and it never lasted long.

.....

Debt-collecting ruined Peter -- people talked him round too oft,
For his heart was soft as butter (and the Co.'s was just as soft);
He would cheer the haggard missus, and he'd tell her not to fret,
And he'd ask the worried debtor round with him to have a wet;
He would ask him round the corner, and it seemed to him and her,
After each of Peter's visits, things were brighter than they were.
But, of course, it wasn't business -- only Peter's careless way;
And perhaps it pays in heaven, but on earth it doesn't pay.
They got harder up than ever, and, to make it worse, the Co.
Went more often round the corner than was good for him to go.

`I might live,' he said to Peter, `but I haven't got the nerve --
I am going, Peter, going -- going, going -- no reserve.
Eat and drink and love they tell us, for to-morrow we may die,
Buy experience -- and we bought it -- we're experienced, you and I.'
Then, with a weary movement of his hand across his brow:
`The death of such philosophy's the death I'm dying now.
Pull yourself together, Peter; 'tis the dying wish of Joe
That the business world shall honour Peter Anderson and Co.

`When you feel your life is sinking in a dull and useless course,
And begin to find in drinking keener pleasure and remorse --
When you feel the love of leisure on your careless heart take holt,
Break away from friends and pleasure, though it give your heart a jolt.
Shun the poison breath of cities -- billiard-rooms and private bars,
Go where you can breathe God's air and see the grandeur of the stars!
Find again and follow up the old ambitions that you had --
See if you can raise a drink, old man, I'm feelin' mighty bad --
Hot and sweetened, nip o' butter -- squeeze o' lemon, Pete,' he sighed.
And, while Peter went to fetch it, Joseph went to sleep -- and died
With a smile -- anticipation, maybe, of the peace to come,
Or a joke to try on Peter -- or, perhaps, it was the rum.

.....

Peter staggered, gripped the table, swerved as some old drunkard swerves --
At a gulp he drank the toddy, just to brace his shattered nerves.
It was awful, if you like.But then he hadn't time to think --
All is nothing!Nothing matters!Fill your glasses -- dead man's drink.

.....

Yet, to show his heart was not of human decency bereft,
Peter paid the undertaker.He got drunk on what was left;
Then he shed some tears, half-maudlin, on the grave where lay the Co.,
And he drifted to a township where the city failures go.
Where, though haunted by the man he was, the wreck he yet might be,
Or the man he might have been, or by each spectre of the three,
And the dying words of Joseph, ringing through his own despair,
Peter `pulled himself together' and he started business there.

But his life was very lonely, and his heart was very sad,
And no help to reformation was the company he had --
Men who might have been, who had been, but who were not in the swim --
'Twas a town of wrecks and failures -- they appreciated him.
They would ask him who the Co. was -- that queer company he kept --
And he'd always answer vaguely -- he would say his partner slept;
That he had a `sleeping partner' -- jesting while his spirit broke --
And they grinned above their glasses, for they took it as a joke.
He would shout while he had money, he would joke while he had breath --
No one seemed to care or notice how he drank himself to death;
Till at last there came a morning when his smile was seen no more --
He was gone from out the office, and his shingle from the door,
And a boundary-rider jogging out across the neighb'ring run
Was attracted by a something that was blazing in the sun;
And he found that it was Peter, lying peacefully at rest,
With a bottle close beside him and the shingle on his breast.
Well, they analysed the liquor, and it would appear that he
Qualified his drink with something good for setting spirits free.
Though 'twas plainly self-destruction -- `'twas his own affair,' they said;
And the jury viewed him sadly, and they found -- that he was dead.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Raw and Realistic World of Peter Anderson And Co.

Henry Lawson's poem "Peter Anderson And Co." is a masterpiece that captures the raw, unvarnished truth of life in the Australian outback in the late 19th century. With a keen eye for detail and a deep empathy for his subjects, Lawson paints a vivid picture of a group of bushmen struggling to survive in a harsh and unforgiving landscape.

At its heart, "Peter Anderson And Co." is a poem about the human experience. It is a celebration of the resilience and strength of ordinary people in the face of adversity. Lawson's characters are not heroes or saints; they are ordinary men and women trying to make their way in a world that can be cruel and unforgiving. And yet, they persevere. They work hard, they drink hard, they laugh hard, and they love hard. They are human, and that is what makes them so compelling.

One of the most striking aspects of Lawson's style is his use of language. He writes in a direct, simple style that is both powerful and evocative. Every word is carefully chosen to convey a specific emotion or idea. Lawson's use of colloquialisms and slang gives the poem an authenticity and immediacy that makes the reader feel as if they are right there in the midst of the action.

For example, in the opening lines of the poem, Lawson writes:

"Right in the heart of the township the  
Red-faced old men are sitting.  
AROUND them in a ring the young men  
Squat, and the sons and the  
Sons of Sons, and the dark-faced  
Strangers pass."

These lines are deceptively simple, but they convey a wealth of information about the setting and the characters. The red-faced old men are clearly the leaders of the group, and their presence suggests a sense of tradition and continuity. The young men, sons, and strangers are all gathered around them, suggesting a sense of community and shared experience. The use of slang, such as "the sons and the sons of sons," gives the poem a sense of immediacy and authenticity, as if Lawson is writing from personal experience.

Another aspect of Lawson's style that is particularly effective is his use of imagery. Throughout the poem, he uses vivid, often brutal, imagery to convey the harsh realities of life in the outback. For example, in the following lines, he describes the men as they work:

"And the axes flash in the sunlight, and  
The saws rip up to the tune of  
Going home, and the "Who'll take 'em?  
Come on!" of the teamsters sounding  
Like a call to the hearts of men."

These lines are filled with images of violence and struggle. The axes flash, the saws rip, and the teamsters call out like warriors on a battlefield. And yet, there is also a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose. The men are working together to achieve a common goal, and that sense of shared experience is what keeps them going.

But perhaps the most powerful aspect of "Peter Anderson And Co." is its portrayal of the human spirit. Despite the hardships they face, the characters in the poem are never defeated. They may be tired, hungry, and worn down, but they never give up. They continue to laugh, to love, to fight, and to dream. They are, in the words of the poet, "the men who make the country / And the men who fight for the same."

In conclusion, "Peter Anderson And Co." is a masterpiece of Australian literature. Through its vivid language, powerful imagery, and profound insights into the human experience, the poem captures the raw and realistic world of the Australian outback in the late 19th century. It is a tribute to the resilience and strength of ordinary people, and a celebration of the human spirit in all its raw, unvarnished glory.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Poetry Peter Anderson And Co.: A Masterpiece of Australian Literature

Henry Lawson, one of the most celebrated Australian writers, is known for his exceptional ability to capture the essence of the Australian bush and its people. His works are a reflection of the harsh realities of life in the outback, and his poems are no exception. One of his most famous poems, "Poetry Peter Anderson And Co.," is a masterpiece that captures the spirit of the Australian bush and its people.

The poem tells the story of Peter Anderson, a bush poet who travels from town to town, reciting his poetry to anyone who will listen. He is accompanied by his loyal dog, and together they make their way through the rugged terrain of the Australian bush. The poem is a tribute to the art of bush poetry and the people who keep it alive.

The poem begins with the description of Peter Anderson and his dog, who are both tired and hungry after a long day of travel. They come across a group of men sitting around a campfire, and Peter Anderson decides to recite some of his poetry to them. The men are initially skeptical, but as Peter Anderson begins to recite his poetry, they become captivated by his words.

The poem is written in a simple and straightforward style, which is characteristic of Lawson's writing. The language is colloquial and reflects the speech patterns of the bush people. The poem is also full of vivid imagery, which brings the Australian bush to life. For example, when Peter Anderson recites his poetry, the men are "spellbound by the magic of rhyme," and the words "echoed and rang through the night."

The poem also explores the theme of the importance of storytelling in the bush. In the absence of modern entertainment, the people of the bush rely on storytelling to pass the time and to connect with each other. Peter Anderson's poetry is a form of storytelling, and it brings the men around the campfire together. The poem suggests that storytelling is an essential part of the bush culture, and it is through stories that the people of the bush connect with each other and with their environment.

Another theme that the poem explores is the idea of the bush as a harsh and unforgiving environment. The men around the campfire are described as "hard-bitten" and "weather-beaten," and their faces are "lined and seamed with care." The poem suggests that life in the bush is tough, and the people who live there must be tough as well. However, the poem also suggests that there is a sense of camaraderie among the people of the bush, and that they rely on each other for support.

The poem also explores the idea of the bush as a place of beauty and wonder. The imagery in the poem is full of references to the natural world, such as the "stars that shine like fireflies," and the "moon that casts a silver light." The poem suggests that despite the harshness of the environment, there is a sense of awe and wonder that comes from living in such a beautiful and rugged landscape.

In conclusion, "Poetry Peter Anderson And Co." is a masterpiece of Australian literature. It captures the spirit of the Australian bush and its people, and it explores themes such as the importance of storytelling, the harshness of the environment, and the beauty of the natural world. The poem is a tribute to the art of bush poetry and the people who keep it alive. Henry Lawson's writing is simple and straightforward, yet it is full of vivid imagery and powerful themes. "Poetry Peter Anderson And Co." is a must-read for anyone who wants to understand the essence of the Australian bush and its people.

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