Chapter 2

"I've seen enough uv pain," 'e said, "An' cursin', killin' 'ordes. I ain't the man to smooge with God To get to 'Eaven on the nod, Or 'owl 'ymns for rewards. But this believin'? Why--Oh, 'Struth This never 'it me in me youth.

"They talk uv love 'twixt men," said 'e. "That sounds dead crook to you. But lately I 'ave come to see." . . . "'Old on," I said; "it seems to me There's love uv women too. An you?" 'E turns away 'is 'ead. "I'm only 'arf a man," 'e said.

"I've seen so much uv death," said 'e, "Me mind is in a whirl. I've 'ad so many thoughts uv late." . . . Said I, "Now, tell me, tell me straight; Own up; ain't there a girl?" Said 'e, "I've done the best I can. Wot does she want with 'arf a man?"

It weren't no use. 'E wouldn't talk Uv nothin' but that sky. Said 'e, "Now, dinkum, talkin' square, When you git gazin' over there Don't you 'arf want to cry? I wouldn't be su'prised to see An angel comin' out," said 'e.

"Gone West!" said Digger Smith. "Ah, lad, I've seen 'em goin' West, An' often wonder, when I look, If they 'ave 'ad it dealt 'em crook, Or if they've got the rest They earned twice over by the spell They spent down in that dinkum 'Ell."

The gold was creepin' up, the sun Was 'arf be'ind the range. It don't seem strange a man should cry To see that glory in the sky To me it don't seem strange. "Digger!" said 'e. "Look at it now! There must be somethin' else--some'ow."

VI. OVER THE FENCE

Over the Fence

'TAINT my idea uv argument to call a man a fool, An' I ain't lookin' round for bricks to 'eave at ole man Poole; But when 'e gets disputin' 'e's inclined to lose 'is 'ead. It ain't so much 'is choice uv words as 'ow the words is said.

'E's sich a coot for takin' sides, as I sez to Doreen. Sez she, "'Ow can 'e, by 'imself ?" Wotever that may mean. My wife sez little things sometimes that nearly git me riled. I knoo she meant more than she said be that soft way she smiled.

To-day, when I was 'arrowin', Poole comes down to the fence To get the loan uv my long spade; an' uses that pretence To 'ave a bit uv friendly talk, an' one word leads to more, As is the way with ole man Poole, as I've remarked before.

The spade reminds 'im 'ow 'e done some diggin' in 'is day, An' diggin' brings the talk to earth, an' earth leads on to clay, Then clay quite natural reminds a thinkin' bloke uv bricks, An' mortar brings up mud, an' then, uv course, it's politics.

Now, Poole sticks be 'is Party, an' I don't deny 'is right; But when 'e starts abusin' mine 'e's lookin' for a fight. So I delivers good 'ome truths about 'is crowd; then Poole Wags 'is ole beard across the fence an' tells me I'm a fool.

Now, that's the dizzy limit; so I lays aside the reins, An' starts to prove 'e's storin' mud where most blokes keeps their brains. 'E decorates 'is answers, an' we're goin' it ding-dong, When this returned bloke, Digger Smith, comes sauntering along.

Poole's gripped the fence as though 'e means to tear the rails in two, An' eyes my waggin' finger like 'e wants to 'ave a chew. Then Digger Smith 'e grins at Poole, an' then 'e looks at me, An' sez, quite soft an' friendly-like, "Winnin' the war?" sez 'e.

Now, Poole deserves it, an' I'm pleased the lad give 'im that jolt. 'E goes fair mad in argument when once 'e gets a holt. "Yeh make me sad," sez Digger Smith; "the both uv you," sez 'e. "The both uv us! Gawstruth!" sez I. "You ain't includin' me?"

"Well, it takes two to make a row," sez little Digger Smith. "A bloke can't argue 'less 'e 'as a bloke to argue with. I've come 'ome from a dinkum scrap to find this land uv light Is chasin' its own tail around an' callin' it a fight.

"We've seen a thing or two, us blokes 'oo've fought on many fronts; An' we've 'ad time to think a bit between the fightin' stunts. We've seen big things, an' thought big things, an' all the silly fuss, That used to get us rattled once, seems very small to us.

"An' when a bloke's fought for a land an' gets laid on the shelf It pains 'im to come 'ome an' find it scrappin' with itself; An' scrappin' all for nothin', or for things that look so small-- To us, 'oo've been in bigger things, they don't seem reel at all.

"P'r'aps we 'ave 'ad some skite knocked out, an' p'r'aps we see more clear, But seems to us there's plenty cleanin'-up to do round 'ere. We've learnt a little thing or two, an' we 'ave unlearnt 'eaps, An' silly partisans, with us, is counted out for keeps.

"This takin' sides jist for the sake uv takin' sides--Aw, 'Struth! I used to do them things one time, back in me foolish youth. Out There, when I remembered things, I've kicked meself reel good. In football days I barracked once red 'ot for Collin'wood.

"I didn't want to see a game, nor see no justice done. It never mattered wot occurred as long as my side won. The other side was narks an' cows an' rotters to a man; But mine was all reel bonzer chaps. I was a partisan.

"It might sound like swelled-'ead," sez Smith. "But show me, if yeh can...." "'Old 'ard," sez Poole. "Jist tell me this: wot is a partisan?" Then Digger Smith starts to ixplain; Poole interrupts straight out; An' I wades in to give my views, an' 'as to nearly shout.

We battles on for one good hour. My team sleeps where it stands; An' Poole 'as tossed the spade away to talk with both 'is 'ands; An' Smith 'as dropped the maul 'e 'ad. Then I looks round to see Doreen quite close. She smiles at us. "Winnin' the war?" sez she.

VII. A DIGGER'S TALE

A Digger's Tale

MY oath!' the Duchess sez. 'You'd not ixpect Sich things as that. Yeh don't mean kangaroos? Go hon!' she sez, or words to that effect-- (It's 'ard to imitate the speech they use) I tells 'er, 'Straight; I drives 'em four-in-'and 'Ome in my land.'

"You 'ear a lot," sez little Digger Smith, "About 'ow English swells is so stand-off. Don't yeh believe it; it's a silly myth. I've been reel cobbers with the British toff While I'm on leaf; for Blighty liked our crowd, An' done us proud.

"Us Aussies was the goods in London town When I was there. If they jist twigged yer 'at The Dooks would ask yeh could yeh keep one down, An' Earls would 'ang out 'Welcome' on the mat, An' sling yeh invites to their stately 'alls For fancy balls.

"This Duchess--I ain't quite sure uv 'er rank; She might uv been a Peeress. I dunno. I meets 'er 'usband first. 'E owns a bank, I 'eard, an' 'arf a dozen mints or so. A dinkum toff. 'E sez, 'Come 'ome with me An' 'ave some tea.'

"That's 'ow I met this Duchess Wot's-'er-name-- Or Countess--never mind 'er moniker; I ain't no 'and at this 'ere title game-- An' right away, I was reel pals with 'er. 'Now, tell me all about yer 'ome,' sez she, An' smiles at me.

"That knocks me out. I know it ain't no good Paintin' word-picters uv the things I done Out 'ome 'ere, barrackin' for Collin'wood, Or puntin' on the flat at Flemin'ton. I know this Baroness uv Wot-yeh-call Wants somethin' tall.

"I thinks reel 'ard; an' then I lets it go. I tells 'er, out at Richmond, on me Run-- A little place uv ten square mile or so-- I'm breedin' boomerangs; which is reel fun, When I ain't troubled by the wild Jonops That eats me crops.

"I talks about the wondrous Boshter Bird That builds 'er nest up in the Cobber Tree, An' 'atches out 'er young on May the third, Stric' to the minute, jist at 'arf pas' three. 'Er eyes get big. She sez, 'Can it be true?' 'Er eyes was blue.

"An' then I speaks uv sport, an' tells 'er 'ow In 'untin' our wild Wowsers we imploy Large packs uv Barrackers, an' 'ow their row Wakes echoes in the forests uv Fitzroy, Where lurks the deadly Shicker Snake 'oo's breath Is certain death.

"I'm goin' on to talk uv kangaroos, An' 'ow I used to drive 'em four-in-'and. 'Wot?' sez the Marchioness. 'Them things in Zoos That 'ops about? I've seen 'em in the Strand In double 'arness; but I ain't seen four. Tell me some more.'

"I baulks a bit at that; an' she sez, 'Well, There ain't no cause at all for you to feel Modest about the things you 'ave to tell; An' wot yeh say sounds wonderfully reel. Your talk'--an' 'ere I seen 'er eyelids flick-- 'Makes me 'omesick.

"'I reckerlect,' she sez--'Now, let me see-- In Gippsland, long ago, when I was young, I 'ad a little pet Corroboree,' (I sits up in me chair like I was stung.) 'On its 'ind legs,' she sez, 'it used to stand. Fed from me 'and.'

"Uv course, I threw me alley in right there. This Princess was a dinkum Aussie girl. I can't do nothin' else but sit an' stare, Thinkin' so rapid that me 'air roots curl. But 'er? She sez, 'I ain't 'eard talk so good Since my child'ood.

"'I wish,' sez she, 'I could be back again Beneath the wattle an' that great blue sky. It's like a breath uv 'ome to meet you men. You've done reel well,' she sez. 'Don't you be shy. When yer in Blighty once again,' sez she, 'Come an' see me.'

"I don't see 'er no more; 'cos I stopped one. But, 'fore I sails, I gits a billy doo Which sez, 'Give my love to the dear ole Sun, An' take an exile's blessin' 'ome with you. An' if you 'ave some boomerangs to spare, Save me a pair.

"'I'd like to see 'em play about,' she wrote, 'Out on me lawn, an' stroke their pretty fur. God bless yeh, boy.' An' then she ends 'er note, 'Yer dinkum cobber,' an' 'er moniker. A sport? You bet! She's marri'd to an Earl-- An Aussie girl."

VIII. JIM'S GIRL

Jim's Girl

"'Oo is that girl," sez Digger Smith, "That never seems to bother with No blokes: the bint with curly 'air? I've often seen 'er over there Talkin' to Missus Flood, an' she Seems like a reel ripe peach to me.

"Not that I'm askin'" . . . 'Ere 'is eyes Goes sort uv swiv'ly, an' 'e sighs. "Not that I'm askin' with idears Uv love an' marridge; 'ave no fears. I've chucked the matrimony plan," 'E sez. "I'm only 'arf a man."

This Digger Smith 'as fairly got Me rampin' with 'is "'arf man" rot. 'E 'as a timber leg, it's true; But 'e can do the work uv two. Besides, the things 'e's done Out There Makes 'im one man an' some to spare.

I knoo 'is question was jist kid. 'E'd met this girl; I know 'e did. 'E knoo Jim Flood an' 'er was booked For double when the 'Un was cooked. But, seein' 'er, it used to start 'Im thinkin' uv another tart.

"Oh, 'er?" sez I. "She is a pearl. I've 'eard she used to be Jim's girl; But she was jist a child when Jim Got out. She 'as forgotten 'im." I knows jist wot was in 'is mind, An' sez, "Wade in, if you're inclined."

'E give me sich a narsty look I thought 'e meant to answer crook; But, "I ain't out for jokes," sez 'e "Yeh needn't sling that stuff to me. I only was jist thinkin'--p'r'aps . . . . . There's some," 'e sez, "that sticks to chaps.

"Some girls," sez 'e, "keeps true to chaps, An' wed 'em when they've done with scraps, An' come 'ome whole. Yeh don't ixpec' No tart to tie up to a wreck? Besides," 'e sez. . . . "Well, any'ow, That girl's all right; I know it now.

"I know," sez Smith. "I got it right. Jim used to talk to me at night About a little girl 'e tracked. 'Er name is Flo. Ain't that a fact? That's 'er. I know she writes to 'im Each mail. She ain't forgotten Jim.

"I'd like to swap my luck for Jim's If 'e comes 'ome with all 'is limbs. An', if 'e don't--well, I dunno. I've taken notice uv this Flo, An' wonder if"--'e stares at me-- "If there is more like 'er" sez 'e.

Now, Digger Smith 'as learned a lot Out fightin' there, but 'e ain't got The cunnin' for to 'ide 'is 'eart. 'E's too dam honest, for a start; 'Is mind's dead simple to a friend. I've read 'im through from end to end.

I've learned from things 'e 'asn't said Jist wot's been runnin in 'is 'ead. I know there is a girl, somewhere; Some one 'oo 'ad the 'eart to care For 'im when 'e went to the war. I know all that, an' somethin' more.

I know that since 'e came back 'ere 'E 'asn't seen that girl for fear She'd turn 'im down--give 'im the bird, An' 'and 'im out the frozen word, Because 'e's left a leg in France; An' 'e's afraid to take a chance.

Well, not afraid, per'aps, but--shook. It's jist the form 'is nerves 'ave took. Now 'e's been watchin' Flo an' seen 'Er style, an' 'ow she's always keen For news uv Jim. Then 'e starts out To 'ope, an' 'esitate, an' doubt.

'E wonders if 'is own girl spoke Jist this same way about 'er bloke. 'E wonders if in 'is girl's eyes That same look came; an' then 'e sighs, An' dulls 'is senses with the dope That 'arf a man ain't got no 'ope.

'E makes me tired. But, all the same, I tries to work a little game. "Look 'ere," I sez. "About this Flo. Jim mightn't come back 'ome, yeh know. You 'ave a fly; yeh're sure to score; Besides, all's fair in love an' war."

"Sling that!" 'e sez; but I goes on "Ole Jim won't blame yeh when she's gone. 'E knows, the same as me an' you, These silly tarts, they can't keep true." I piles it on until I've got 'Im where I want 'im--jumpin' 'ot.

An' then 'e sez, "'Ere, sling that talk! I might be groggy in me walk; But if yeh say them things to me I'm man enough to crack yeh; see?" "Righto," sez I. "That was me plan. Now wot about this 'arf a man?"

'E stares at me, an' then sez, slow, "Wot is yer game? Wot do yeh know?" "Nothin'," I tells 'im, "only this When there's a waitin' tart to kiss Yeh're only 'arf a man; but when There's blokes to fight, yeh're twenty men."

"Wot tart?" 'e asks. "Yeh mean this Flo?" "P'r'aps not," I sez. "You ought to know." I waits to let me words sink in. An' then--'e beats me with that grin. "Match-makin', Bill?" 'e laughs. "Oh, 'Ell! You take up knittin' for a spell."

IX. THE BOYS OUT THERE

The Boys Out There

"WHY do they do it? I dunno," Sez Digger Smith. "Yeh got me beat. Some uv the yarns yeh 'ear is true, An' some is rather umptydoo, An' some is--indiscreet. But them that don't get to the crowd, Them is the ones would make yeh proud."

With Digger Smith an' other blokes 'Oo 'ave returned it's much the same They'll talk uv wot they've seen an' done When they've been out to 'ave their fun; But no word uv the game. On fights an' all the tale uv blood Their talk, as they remark, is dud.

It's so with soldiers, I 'ave 'eard, All times. The things that they 'ave done, War-mad, with blood before their eyes, An' in their ears wild fightin' cries, They ever after shun. P'r'aps they forget; or find it well Not to recall too much uv 'Ell.

An' when they won't loose up their talk It's 'ard for us to understand 'Ow all those boys we used to know, Ole Billo, Jim an' Tom an' Joe, Done things to beat the band. We knoo they'd fight; but they've became 'Ead ringers at the fightin' game.

Well, wot I've 'eard from Digger Smith An' other soldier blokes like 'im I've put together bit by bit, An' chewed a long time over it; An' now I've got a dim An' 'azy notion in me 'ead Why they is battlers, born an' bred.

Wot did they know uv war first off, When they joined up? Wot did I know When I was tossed out on me neck As if I was a shattered wreck The time I tried to go? Flat feet! Me feet 'as len'th an' brea'th Enough to kick a 'Un to death!

They don't know nothin', bein' reared Out 'ere where war 'as never spread-- "A land by bloodless conquest won," As some son uv a writin' gun Sez in a book I read They don't know nix but wot they're told At school; an' that sticks till they're old.

Yeh've got to take the kid at school, Gettin' 'is 'ist'ry lesson learned-- Then tales uv Nelson an' uv Drake, Uv Wellin'ton an' Fightin' Blake. 'Is little 'eart 'as burned To get right out an' 'ave a go, An' sock it into some base foe.

Nothin' but glory fills 'is mind; The British charge is somethin' grand; The soldier that 'e reads about Don't 'ave no time for fear an' doubt; 'E's the 'eroic brand. So, when that boy gets in the game, 'E jist wades in an' does the same.

Not bein' old 'ands at the stunt, They simply does as they are told; But, bein' Aussies--Spare me days!-- They never thinks uv other ways, But does it brave an' bold. That's 'arf; an' for the other part Yeh got to go back to the start.

Yeh've got to go right back to Dad, To Gran'dad and the pioneers, 'Oo packed up all their bag uv tricks An' come out 'ere in fifty-six, An' battled thro' the years; Our Gran'dads; _and their women, too_, That 'ad the grit to face the new.

It's that old stock; an', more than that, It's Bill an' Jim an' ev'ry son Gettin' three good meat meals a day An' 'eaps uv chance to go an' play Out in the bonzer sun. It's partly that; but, don't forget, When it's all said, there's somethin' yet.

There's somethin' yet; an' there I'm beat. Crowds uv these lads I've known, but then, They 'ave got somethin' from this war, Somethin' they never 'ad before, That makes 'en better men. Better? There's no word I can get To name it right. There's somethin' yet.

We 'ear a lot about reward; We praise, an' sling the cheers about; But there was debts we can't repay Piled up on us one single day-- When that first list come out. There ain't no way to pay that debt. Do wot we can--there's somethin' yet.

X. HALF A MAN

Half a Man

"I WASH me 'ands uv 'im," I tells 'em, straight. "You women can do wot yeh dash well like. I leave this 'arf a man to 'is own fate; I've done me bit, an' now I'm gone on strike. Do wot yeh please; but don't arsk 'elp from me; 'E's give me nerves; so now I'll let 'im be."

Doreen an' ole Mar Flood 'as got a scheme. They've been conspirin' for a week or more About this Digger Smith, an' now they dream They've got 'is fucher waitin' in cool store To 'and 'im out, an' fix 'im up for life. But they've got Buckley's, as I tells me wife.

I've seen 'em whisperin' up in our room. Now they wants me to join in the debate; But, "Nix," I tells 'em. "I ain't in the boom, An' Digger Smith ain't risin' to me bait; 'E's fur too fly a fish for me to catch, An' two designin' women ain't 'is match."

I puts me foot down firm, an' tells 'em, No! Their silly plan's a thing I wouldn't touch. An' then me wife, for 'arf an hour or so, Talks to me confident, of nothin' much; Then, 'fore I know it, I am all red 'ot Into the scheme, an' leader uv the plot.

'Twas Mar Flood starts it. She got 'old uv 'im-- You know the way they 'ave with poor, weak men-- She drops a tear or two concernin' Jim; Tells 'im wot women 'ave to bear; an' then She got 'im talkin', like a woman can. 'E never would 'ave squeaked to any man.

She leads 'im on--It's crook the way they scheme To talk about this girl 'e's left be'ind. Not that she's pryin'! Why, she wouldn't dream!-- But speakin' uv it might jist ease 'is mind. Then, 'fore 'e knows, 'e's told, to 'is su'prise, Name an' address--an' colour uv 'er eyes!

An' then she's off 'ere plottin' with Doreen-- Bustin' a confidence, I tells 'em, flat. But all me roustin' leaves 'em both serene Women don't see a little thing like that. An' I ain't cooled off yet before they've got Me workin' for 'em in this crooked plot.

Nex' day Mar Flood she takes 'er Sund'y dress An' 'er best little bonnet up to town. 'Er game's to see the girl at this address An' word 'er in regard to comin' down To take Smith be su'prise. My part's to fix A meetin' so there won't be any mix.

I tips, some'ow, that girl won't 'esitate. She don't. She comes right back with Mar nex' day, All uv a fluster. When I seen 'er state I thinks I'd best see Digger straight away; 'Cos, if I don't, 'e's bound to 'ear the row, With 'er: "Where is 'e? Can't I see 'im now?"

I finds 'im in the paddick down at Flood's. I 'ums an' 'ars a bit about the crops. 'E don't say nothin': goes on baggin' spuds. "'Ow would yeh like," I sez to 'im, an' stops. "'Ow would it be" . . . 'E stands an' looks at me "Now, wot the 'Ell's got into you?" sez 'e.

That don't restore me confidence a bit. The drarmer isn't goin' as I tipped. I corfs, an' makes another shot at it; While 'e looks at me like 'e thinks I'm dipped. "Well--jist suppose," I sez; an' then I turn An' see 'er standin' there among the fern.

She don't want no prelimin'ries, this tart; She's broke away before they rung the bell; She's beat the gun, an' got a flyin' start. Smith makes a funny noise, an' I sez, "'Ell" Because I tumbles that I'm out uv place: But, as I went, I caught sight uv 'er face.

That's all I want to know. An', as I ran, I 'ears 'er cry, "My man! Man an' a 'arf! Don't fool me with yer talk uv 'arf a man!". . . . An' then I 'ears ole Digger start to larf. It was a funny larf, so 'elp me bob: Fair in the middle uv it come a sob. . . .

I don't see Digger till the other night. "Well, 'Arf-a-man," I sez. "'Ow goes it now?" "Yes, 'arf a man," sez 'e. "Yeh got it right; I can't change that, alone, not any'ow. But she is mendin' things." 'E starts to larf. "Some day," 'e sez, "she'll be the better 'arf."

XI. SAWIN' WOOD

Sawin' Wood

I WONDERED wot was doin'. First I seen Ole Missus Flood wave signals to Doreen. I'm in the paddick slashin' down some ferns; She's comin' up the road; an' if she turns An 'andspring I won't be su'prised a bit, The way she's caperin', an' goin' it.

She yells out some remark when she gets near, Which I don't catch, I'm too fur off to 'ear. An' then Doreen comes prancin' to our door, An' Missus Flood she sprints, an' yells some more; My wife runs to the gate an' waves 'er arms. . . . But I lays low; I'm used to these alarms.

A marri'd bloke, in time, 'e learns a bit; An' 'e ain't over keen to throw a fit Each time the women calls the fire-reel out. It's jist a trifle 'e'll know all about When things get normal. That's a point I learn; So I saws wood, an' keeps on cuttin' fern.

At least, I cut a few. I got to give Reel fac's, an' own I was inquisitive; An' these 'ere fireworks gets me fair perplexed. I watch the 'ouse to see wot 'appens next; But nothin's doin'. They jist goes on in, An' leaves me wonderin' wot's caused the din.

I stands it for a full 'arf-hour or more; Then gets dead sick uv starin' at the door. I goes down to the 'ouse an' 'unts about To find some 'baccer, which I 'ave no doubt Is in me trousers pocket all the while. When I goes in, the talk stops, an' they smile.

I sez I've lost me smoke, an' search a bit, An' ask Doreen wot 'as became uv it, An' turns the mantelshelf all upside-down, An' looks inside the teapot, with a frown; Then gives it up, an' owns I'd like a drink; When Missus Flood sez, "Bill, _wot do you think_?"

Now, ain't that like a woman? Spare me days, I'll never get resigned to all their ways. When they 'as news to tell they smile, an' wink, An' bottle it, an' ask yeh wot yeh think. It's jist a silly game uv theirs, an' so, I gives the countersign: "Wot? I dunno."

"Then guess," she sez. Well, I'm a patient bloke, So I sits down an' starts to cut a smoke. (To play this game yeh've got to persevere.) "Couldn't," I sez, "if I guessed for a year"; Then lights me pipe, an' waits for 'er to speak. At last she sez, "_Jim's comin' back next week_!"

"Go on," sez I; an' puffs away awhile Quite unconcerned. But for to see 'er smile Was jist a treat: 'er eyes was shinin' bright, An' she'd grow'd ten years younger in a night. Jist 'ere, Doreen she sez to me, "Good Lor, Wot do yeh want _two_ plugs uv 'baccer for?"