When I go back from Billy's place I always have to roam
The mazy road, the crazy road that leads the long way home.
Ma always says, "Why don't you come through Mr Donkin's land?
The footbridge track will bring you back." Ma doesn't understand.
I cannot go that way, you know, because of Donkin's dog;
So I set forth and travel north, and cross the fallen log.
Last week, when I was coming by, that log had lizards in it;
And you can't say I stop to play if I just search a minute.
I look around upon the ground and, if there are no lizards,
I go right on and reach the turn in front of Mrs Blizzard's.
I do not seek to cross the creek, because it's deep and floody,
And Ma would be annoyed with me if I came home all muddy.
Perhaps I throw a stone or so at Mrs Blizzard's tank,
Because it's great when I aim straight to hear the stone go "Plank!"
Then west I wend from Blizzard's Bend, and not a moment wait,
Except, perhaps, at Mr Knapp's, to swing upon his gate.
So up the hill I go, until I reach the little paddock
That Mr Jones at present owns and rents to Mr Craddock.
For boys my size the sudden rise is quite a heavy pull,
And yet I fear a short-cut here because of Craddock's bull;
So I just tease the bull till he's as mad as he can get,
And then I face the corner place that's been so long to let.
It's very well for Ma to tell about my dawdling habits.
What would you do, suppose you knew the place was thick with rabbits?
I do not stay for half a day, as Ma declares I do.
No, not for more than half-an-hour — perhaps an hour — or two.
Then down the drop I run, slip-slop, where all the road is slithy.
And have to go quite close, you know, to Mr Horner's smithy.
A moment I might tarry by the fence to watch them hammer,
And, I must say, learn more that way than doing sums and grammar.
And, if I do sometimes climb through, I do not mean to linger.
Though I did stay awhile the day Bill Homer burst his finger.
I just stand there to see the pair bang some hot iron thing
And watch Bill Horner swing the sledge and hit the anvil — Bing!
(For Mr Horner and his son are great big brawny fellows:
Both splendid chaps!) And then, perhaps, they let me blow the bellows.
A while I stop beside the shop, and talk to Mr Horner;
Then off I run, and race like fun around by Duggan's Corner.
It's getting late, and I don't wait beside the creek a minute,
Except to stop, maybe, and drop a few old pebbles in it.
A few yards more, and here's the store that's kept by Mr Whittle —
And you can't say I waste the day if I 'ust wait... a little.
One day, you know, a year ago, a man gave me a penny,
And Mr Whittle sold me sweets (but not so very many).
You never know your luck, and so I look to see what's new
In Mr Whittle's window. There's a peppermint or two,
Some buttons and tobacco (Mr Whittle calls it "baccy"),
And fish in tins, and tape, and pins.... And then a voice calls, "Jacky!"
"I'm coming, Ma. I've been so far-around by Duggan's Corner.
I had to stay awhile to say 'Good day' to Mr Horner.
I feel so fagged; I've tramped and dragged through mud and over logs, Ma —
I could not go short-cuts, you know, because of bulls and dogs, Ma.
The creek, Ma? Why, it's very high! You don't call that a gutter?
Bill Horner chews tobacco, Ma.... I'd like some bread and butter."
Poem Analysis:
C. J. Dennis’s The Long Road Home is a humorous and lively poem about a young boy, Jacky, whose journey home becomes much longer than necessary. Although his mother believes that he is simply wasting time and “dawdling,” Jacky presents every delay as a reasonable necessity. Through the child’s imaginative excuses, Dennis captures the freedom, curiosity, and mischievousness of childhood.
The central theme of the poem is the difference between adult and child perspectives. Jacky’s mother sees the journey as a simple task: he should take the shortest route home. Jacky, however, sees the road as a world full of exciting possibilities. He avoids shortcuts because of “Donkin’s dog” and “Craddock’s bull,” but he also deliberately stops to look for lizards, throw stones, swing on gates, watch blacksmiths, and inspect sweets in a shop window. His journey is therefore not merely a trip from one place to another; it is an adventure filled with discovery.
Dennis creates humour through dramatic irony and exaggeration. Jacky repeatedly insists that he does not stop for long, yet his own account proves the opposite. He says he stays at the blacksmith’s only for a moment, but then describes watching Bill Horner hammer iron, helping with the bellows, and talking to Mr Horner. Similarly, at the shop he claims that he only waits “a little,” although he carefully examines everything in the window. The reader understands what Jacky himself refuses to admit: he is an enthusiastic dawdler.
The poem is also notable for its childlike voice and conversational language. Jacky speaks naturally, using simple expressions and playful reasoning. His repeated attempts to defend himself make him believable and endearing. The final conversation with his mother is particularly effective because Jacky gives a series of excuses—mud, logs, bulls, dogs, and the flooded creek—before suddenly revealing his interest in Mr Horner’s tobacco. His final request for “bread and butter” humorously returns him to the ordinary world of home and family.
Dennis also uses rhyme, rhythm, repetition, and vivid sound effects to make the poem energetic. Words such as “Plank!” and “Bing!” bring the boy’s experiences vividly to life. The long sequence of place names—Donkin’s, Blizzard’s, Knapp’s, Horner’s, Duggan’s, and Whittle’s—creates the impression of a real country neighbourhood while giving the journey a clear sense of movement.
The Long Road Home celebrates the curiosity and freedom of childhood. Jacky may be disobedient and easily distracted, but his wandering allows him to experience things that formal education cannot provide. His observation that watching the blacksmiths can teach him more than “sums and grammar” expresses the child’s desire to learn through direct experience. Dennis therefore transforms an ordinary walk home into a comic portrait of childhood, showing that what adults call “wasting time” can actually be a valuable way of exploring and understanding the world.
