Pedestrian Humour
Matthew Brady was a daring bugger. In 1824 the bushranger rode into Sorell, 26kms east of Hobart Town, bold as you please, locking up the soldiers in their own garrison, pinching their weapons, freeing the prisoners, and generally making merry.
As some kind of ironic joke, the township has erected a monument to a sleeping policeman. No, not the human type, but those built-in bumps that regulate traffic on suburban intersections.
The silent cop – of no relation to the dozy bunch herded up by Brady – takes pride of place on the corner of Gordon and Cole as part of its own monument. Sorell’s only traffic lights usurped the notable hump in 1993.