Nothing but the Pub

So anyway, I’m in a saloon in New York, not far from the East River but my thoughts have just zoomed back home to the Riverina and Deniliquin on the Edward. Maybe ten years ago I was down at Denny speaking with a great gentleman who’s sadly since passed away. Bill Mulham was the lifeblood of the local historical society and we spoke for a couple of hours about the history of the area. At the end he asked if I knew about the shear tree to the north of the town. Seems that in 1914 a young shearer signed up for the War to end all Wars and stuck his shears into a tree at Pretty Pine, saying he’d get ‘em when he got back. He never returned and the shears are still embedded in the tree, only by now they’re about 5 metres up. I was comfortable enough with Bill to tell him that one of the few things I remembered from high school science was that trees grow from the top, only grasses grow from the bottom and so the shears simply couldn't rise up as the tree grows. O...