No Choice

'When I was a kiddy and away out-back,' Said the man with the salt-bush lingo. 'My dogs, two cattle-dogs, grey and black, They gets fair on to the blinded track Of a walloping great big dingo! The savagest beast in all the pack - Oh, he was the real old stingo!' 'They rounded him up till he climbs a tree And of course he was mighty glad to.' 'Hold on,' says I, 'for I never did see A dingo yet as could climb a tree And I've seen 'em run real bad, too!' 'You can say that beast can't climb a tree? By the holy smoke he had to!'