He is still alive (86), and apparently still performing, so those readers who have missed this cultural icon may still be lucky.

His 1958 classic The Fatal Wedding finishes "And then the heavens broke open/And the rain it started to fall/And the whole flamin' town got washed away/And there was no one left at all."

While searching Australia's weather records I came across newspaper stories via the Trove site which describe the scorching temperatures during the 1895-96, 24-day heatwave.

The heat-related deaths could have inspired another Chad Morgan song.

Page eight of The West Australian details hardship caused by the heat right across Australia.

The Bourke report for January 23 begins, "Today the heat is still terrible, registering 119 degrees (48.33C) in the shade.

"John Smith ... was found to-day in an unconscious condition ... and was being driven to Bourke when he expired. A man named White, in proceeding from Barringun to Bourke on the coach expired when reaching the Native Dog Bore.

"Mrs. Wright, while attending to her aged and dying husband, became ill, and died shortly afterwards. Mrs. Honeysuckle, residing at Dyer's Gates, 27 miles from here, succumbed to the heat, and her son-in law, 23 years of age, came to Bourke to get a coffin and to arrange with the Railway Department to take it on to Mudgee with the corpse for burial.

"He returned home, and had just finished soldering the coffin lid when he complained of feeling ill. He died within an hour, and the carriage which he ordered conveyed his body also to the burying ground."

Real life in 1896, not a Chad Morgan song.

The 1895-96 heatwave killed 437 people, early casualties of the 1895-1903 Federation Drought.

The Red Tuesday bushfires in 1898 killed 12 and consumed 2000 buildings.

Drought, hot winds and fires go together.

Today, air cooling saves lives and makes life bearable.

Our lives were a little like the pioneers at Bourke when we moved into an uninsulated weatherboard home in Lockhart in 1978.

Quickly we adopted the local custom after work and headed for the pool to have dinner, returning home only after sundown.

Watering-can-filled Bon Aire coolers helped with sleep at night.

The babies' bassinets had a damp towel draped across the handles.

A year later, we bought our first window-mounted air conditioner.

In about 1982, we bought a second-hand, air-conditioned Valiant, so travel with babies was comfortable and peaceful.

Australians take these comforts for granted these days.

Wagga's official temperature record of 43.2 degrees was set on December 21,1953, but the Agricultural Institute weather station recorded 43.9 degrees on December 16, 1923.

The best we could do in 2019 was 43.1 on December 19.

Hot weather and droughts are not unusual. The first recorded drought was in 1803.

Lack of rain has added to 2019's heat as it did in 1896.

The Sunday Telegraph reported, "Without miraculous rainfall, 2019 is set to go down as the driest year in 117 years, breaking the record for the lowest average rainfall set back in 1902."

That 1902 record was set at the end of the Federation Drought, 1895-1903.

Then it rained.

Maybe the Newcastle Herald has the answer. They consulted local poet Bob "Minmi Magster" Skelton, asking "When you have a big drought, does a big flood usually follow?"

He's known as the Hunter bush poet, and reckons it's well past time for his rain poem to come out.

"So rain rain fall on down/Quench the thirsty land around/Fill the dams, the rivers and creeks/Send her down Hughie, send us heaps," the rain poem finishes.

The Herald notes that the Bureau of Meteorology's outlook states: "January to March 2020 sees a reduction in the likelihood of drier conditions, with most of the country having roughly equal chances of a wetter or drier than average three months".

Does that mean flood or drought?

If Newcastle Bob's poem works, Wagga could be glad that the levy works are finished!