Chapter 3

You could 'a' outed me right on the spot! I wus so rattled when that porter spoke. Fer, 'struth! them tickets I 'ad fair forgot! But 'e jist laughs, an' takes it fer a joke. "We must ixcuse," 'e sez, "new-married folk." An' I pays up, an' grins, an' blushes red.... It shows 'ow married life improves a bloke: If I'd bin single I'd 'a' punched 'is head!

XI. Beef Tea

She never magged; she never said no word; But sat an' looked at me an' never stirred. I could 'a' bluffed it out if she 'ad been Fair narked, an' let me 'ave it wiv 'er tongue; But silence told me 'ow 'er 'eart wus wrung. Poor 'urt Doreen!

Gorstruth! I'd sooner fight wiv fifty men Than git one look like that frum 'er agen!

She never moved; she never spoke no word; That 'urt look in 'er eyes, like some scared bird: "'Ere is the man I loved," it seemed to say. "'E's mine, this crawlin' thing, an' I'm 'is wife; Tied up fer good; an' orl me joy in life Is chucked away!" If she 'ad bashed me I'd 'a felt no 'urt! But 'ere she treats me like--like I wus dirt.

'Ow is a man to guard agen that look? Fer other wimmin, when the'r blokes go crook, An' lobs 'ome wiv the wages uv a jag, They smashes things an' carries on a treat An' 'owls an' scolds an' wakes the bloomin' street Wiv noisy mag. But 'er--she never speaks; she never stirs... I drops me bundle...An' the game is 'ers.

Jist two months wed! Eight weeks uv married bliss Wiv my Doreen, an' now it's come to this! Wot wus I thinkin' uv? Gawd! I ain't fit To kiss the place 'er little feet 'as been! 'Er that I called me wife, me own Doreen! Fond dreams'as flit; Love's done a bunk, an' joy is up the pole; An' shame an' sorrer's roostin' in me soul.

'Twus orl becors uv Ginger Mick--the cow! (I wish't I 'ad 'im 'ere to deal wiv now! I'd pass 'im one, I would! 'E ain't no man!) I meets 'im Choosdee ev'nin' up the town. "Wot O," 'e chips me. "Kin yeh keep one down?" I sez I can. We 'as a couple; then meets three er four Flash coves I useter know, an' 'as some more.

"'Ow are yeh on a little gamble, Kid?" Sez Ginger Mick. "Lars' night I'm on four quid. Come 'round an' try yer luck at Steeny's school." "No," sez me conscience. Then I thinks, "Why not? An' buy 'er presents if I wins a pot? A blazin' fool I wus. Fer 'arf a mo' I 'as a fight; Then conscience skies the wipe...Sez I "Orright."

Ten minutes later I was back once more, Kip in me 'and, on Steeny Isaac's floor, Me luck was in an' I wus 'eadin' good. Yes, back agen amongst the same old crew! An' orl the time down in me 'eart I knew I never should... Nex' thing I knows it's after two o'clock-- Two in the mornin'! An' I've done me block!

"Wot odds?" I thinks. "I'm in fer it orright." An' so I stops an' gambles orl the night; An' bribes me conscience wiv the gilt I wins. But when I comes out in the cold, 'ard dawn I know I've crooled me pitch; me soul's in pawn. My flamin' sins They 'its me in a 'eap right where I live; Fer I 'ave broke the solim vow I give.

She never magged; she never said no word. An' when I speaks, it seems she never 'eard. I could 'a' sung a nim, I feels so gay! If she 'ad only roused I might 'a' smiled. She jist seems 'urt an' crushed; not even riled. I turns away, An' yanks me carkis out into the yard, Like some whipped pup; an' kicks meself reel 'ard.

An' then, I sneaks to bed, an' feels dead crook. Fer golden quids I couldn't face that look That trouble in the eyes uv my Doreen. Aw, strike! Wot made me go an' do this thing? I feel jist like a chewed up bit of string, An' rotten mean! Fer 'arf an hour I lies there feelin' cheap; An' then I s'pose, I muster fell asleep....

"'Ere, Kid, drink this"...I wakes, an' lifts me 'ead, An' sees 'er standin' there beside the bed; A basin in 'er 'ands; an' in 'er eyes (Eyes that wiv unshed tears is shinin' wet)-- The sorter look I never shall ferget, Until I dies. "'Ere, Kid, drink this," she sez, an' smiles at me. I looks--an' spare me days! It WAS BEEF TEA!

Beef tea! She treats me like a hinvaleed! Me! that 'as caused 'er lovin' 'eart to bleed. It 'urts me worse than maggin' fer a week! 'Er! 'oo 'ad right to turn dead sour on me, Fergives like that, an' feeds me wiv beef tea... I tries to speak; An' then--I ain't ashamed o' wot I did-- I 'ides me face...an' blubbers like a kid.

XII. Uncle Jim

"I got no time fer wasters, lad," sez'e, "Give me a man wiv grit," sez Uncle Jim. 'E bores 'is cute ole eyes right into me, While I stares 'ard an' gives it back to 'im. Then orl at once 'e grips me 'and in 'is: "Some'ow," 'e sez, "I likes yer ugly phiz."

"You got a look," 'e sez, "like you could stay; Altho' yeh mauls King's English when yeh yaps, An' 'angs flash frills on ev'rythink yeh say. I ain't no grammarist meself, per'aps, But langwidge is a 'elp, I owns," sez Unk, "When things is goin' crook." An' 'ere 'e wunk.

"Yeh'll find it tough," 'e sez, "to knuckle down. Good farmin' is a gift--like spoutin' slang. Yeh'll 'ave to cut the luxuries o' town, An' chuck the manners of this back-street gang; Fer country life ain't cigarettes and beer." "I'm game," I sez. Sez Uncle, "Put it 'ere!"

Like that I took the plunge, an' slung the game. I've parted wiv them joys I 'eld most dear; I've sent the leery bloke that bore me name Clean to the pack wivout one pearly tear; An' frum the ashes of a ne'er-do-well A bloomin' farmer's blossomin' like 'ell.

Farmer! That's me! Wiv this 'ere strong right 'and I've gripped the plough; and blistered jist a treat. Doreen an' me 'as gone upon the land. Yours truly fer the burden an' the 'eat! Yours truly fer upendin' chunks o' soil! The 'ealthy, 'ardy, 'appy son o' toil!

I owns I've 'ankered fer me former joys; I've 'ad me hours o' broodin' on me woes; I've missed the comp'ny, an' I've missed the noise, The football matches an' the picter shows. I've missed--but, say, it makes me feel fair mean To whip the cat; an' then see my Doreen.

To see the colour comin' in 'er cheeks, To see 'er eyes grow brighter day be day, The new, glad way she looks an' laughs an' speaks Is worf ten times the things I've chucked away. An' there's a secret, whispered in the dark, 'As made me 'eart sing like a flamin' lark.

Jist let me tell yeh 'ow it come about. The things that I've been thro' 'ud fill a book. Right frum me birf Fate played to knock me out; The 'and that I 'ad dealt to me was crook! Then comes Doreen, an' patches up me parst; Now Forchin's come to bunk wiv me at larst.

First orf, one night poor Mar gits suddin fits, An' floats wivout the time to wave "good-byes." Doreen is orl broke up the day she flits; It tears me 'eart in two the way she cries. To see 'er grief, it almost made me glad I never knowed the mar I must 'ave 'ad.

We done poor Muvver proud when she went out A slap-up send-orf, trimmed wiv tears an' crape. An' then fer weeks Doreen she mopes about, An' life takes on a gloomy sorter shape. I watch 'er face git pale, 'er eyes grow dim; Till--like some 'airy angel--comes ole Jim.

A cherub togged in sunburn an' a beard An' duds that shouted "'Ayseed!" fer a mile: Care took the count the minute 'e appeared, An' sorter shrivelled up before 'is smile, 'E got the 'ammer-lock on my good-will The minute that 'e sez, "So, this is Bill."

It's got me beat. Doreen's late Par, some way, Was second cousin to 'is bruvver's wife. Somethin' like that. In less than 'arf a day It seemed 'e'd been my uncle orl me life. 'E takes me 'and: "I dunno 'ow it is," 'E sez, "but, lad, I likes that ugly phiz."

An' when 'e'd stayed wiv us a little while The 'ouse begun to look like 'ome once more. Doreen she brightens up beneath 'is smile, An' 'ugs 'im till I kids I'm gettin' sore. Then, late one night, 'e opens up 'is scheme, An' passes me wot looks like some fond dream.

'E 'as a little fruit-farm, doin' well; 'E saved a tidy bit to see 'im thro'; 'E's gettin' old fer toil, an' wants a spell; An' 'ere's a 'ome jist waitin' fer us two. "It's 'ers an' yours fer keeps when I am gone," Sez Uncle Jim. "Lad, will yeh take it on?"

So that's the strength of it. An' 'ere's me now A flamin' berry farmer, full o' toil; Playin' joo-jitsoo wiv an' 'orse an' plough, An' coaxin' fancy tucker frum the soil, An' longin', while I wrestles with the rake, Fer days when me poor back fergits to ache.

Me days an' nights is full of schemes an' plans To figger profits an' cut out the loss; An' when the pickin's on, I 'ave me 'an's To take me orders while I act the boss; It's sorter sweet to 'ave the right to rouse.... An' my Doreen's the lady of the 'ouse.

To see 'er bustlin' 'round about the place, Full of the simple joy o' doin' things, That thoughtful, 'appy look upon 'er face, That 'ope an' peace an' pride o' labour brings, Is worth the crowd of joys I knoo one time, An' makes regrettin' 'em seem like a crime.

An' ev'ry little while ole Uncle Jim Comes up to stay a bit an' pass a tip. It gives us 'eart jist fer to look at 'im, An' feel the friendship in 'is warm 'and-grip. 'Im, wiv the sunburn on 'is kind ole dile; 'Im, wiv the sunbeams in 'is sweet ole smile.

"I got no time fer wasters, lad," sez 'e, "But that there ugly mug o' yourn I trust." An' so I reckon that it's up to me To make a bloomin' do of it or bust. I got to take the back-ache wiv the rest, An' plug along, an' do me little best.

Luck ain't no steady visitor, I know; But now an' then it calls--fer look at me! You wouldn't take me, 'bout a year ago, Free gratis wiv a shillin' pound o' tea; Then, in a blessed 'eap, ole Forchin lands A missus an' a farm fair in me 'ands.

XIII. The Kid

My son!...Them words, jist like a blessed song, Is singin' in me 'eart the 'ole day long; Over an' over; while I'm scared I'll wake Out of a dream, to find it all a fake.

My son! Two little words, that, yesterdee, Wus jist two simple, senseless words to me; An' now--no man, not since the world begun, Made any better pray'r than that....My son!

My son an' bloomin' 'eir...Ours!...'Ers an' mine! The finest kid in--Aw, the sun don't shine-- Ther' ain't no joy fer me beneath the blue Unless I'm gazin' lovin' at them two.

A little while ago it was jist "me"-- A lonely, longin' streak o' misery. An' then 'twas "'er an' me"--Doreen, my wife! An' now it's "'im an' us" an'--sich is life.

But 'struth! 'E is king-pin! The 'ead serang! I mustn't tramp about, or talk no slang; I mustn't pinch 'is nose, or make a face, I mustn't--Strike! 'E seems to own the place!

Cunnin'? Yeh'd think, to look into 'is eyes, 'E knoo the game clean thro'; 'e seems that wise. Wiv 'er 'an nurse 'e is the leadin' man, An' poor ole dad's amongst the "also ran."

"Goog, goo," 'e sez, and curls 'is cunnin' toes. Yeh'd be su'prised the 'caps o' things 'e knows. I'll swear 'e tumbles I'm 'is father, too; The way 'e squints at me, an' sez "Goog, goo."

Why! 'smornin' 'ere 'is lordship gits a grip Fair on me finger-give it quite a nip! An' when I tugs, 'e won't let go 'is hold! 'Angs on like that! An' 'im not three weeks old!

"Goog, goo," 'e sez. I'll swear yeh never did In all yer natcheril, see sich a kid. The cunnin' ways 'e's got; the knowin' stare-- Ther' ain't a youngster like 'im ANYWHERE!

An', when 'e gits a little pain inside, 'Is dead straight griffin ain't to be denied. I'm sent to talk sweet nuffin's to the fowls; While nurse turns 'and-springs ev'ry time 'e 'owls.

But say, I tell yeh straight...I been thro' 'ell! The things I thort I wouldn't dare to tell Lest, in the tellin' I might feel again One little part of all that fear an' pain.

It come so sudden that I lorst me block. First, it was, 'Ell-fer-leather to the doc., 'Oo took it all so calm 'e made me curse An' then I sprints like mad to get the nurse.

By gum; that woman! But she beat me flat! A man's jist putty in a game like that. She owned me 'appy 'ome almost before She fairly got 'er nose inside me door.

Sweatin' I was! but cold wiv fear inside An' then, to think a man could be denied 'Is wife an' 'ome an' told to fade away By jist one fat ole nurse 'oo's in 'is pay!

I wus too weak wiv funk to start an' rouse. 'Struth! Ain't a man the boss in 'is own 'ouse? "You go an' chase yerself!" she tips me straight. There's nothin' now fer you to do but--wait."

Wait?...Gawd!...I never knoo wot waitin' meant In all me life till that day I was sent To loaf around, while there inside--Aw, strike! I couldn't tell yeh wot that hour was like!

Three times I comes to listen at the door; Three times I drags meself away once more; 'Arf dead wiv fear; 'arf dead wiv tremblin' joy... An' then she beckons me, an' sez-"A boy!"

"A boy!" she sez. "An' bofe is doin' well!" I drops into a chair, an' jist sez--"'Ell!" It was a pray'r. I feels bofe crook an' glad.... An' that's the strength of bein' made a dad.

I thinks of church, when in that room I goes, 'Oldin' me breaf an' walkin' on me toes. Fer 'arf a mo' I feared me nerve 'ud fail To see 'er lying there so still an' pale.

She looks so frail, at first, I dursn't stir. An' then, I leans acrost an' kisses 'er; An' all the room gits sorter blurred an' dim... She smiles, an' moves 'er 'ead. "Dear lad! Kiss 'im."

Near smothered in a ton of snowy clothes, First thing, I sees a bunch o' stubby toes, Bald 'ead, termater face, an' two big eyes. "Look, Kid," she smiles at me. "Ain't 'e a size?"

'E didn't seem no sorter size to me; But yet, I speak no lie when I agree; "'E is," I sez, an' smiles back at Doreen, "The biggest nipper fer 'is age I've seen."

She turns away; 'er eyes is brimmin' wet. "Our little son!" she sez. "Our precious pet!" An' then, I seen a great big drop roll down An' fall--kersplosh!--fair on 'is nibs's crown.

An' still she smiles. "A lucky sign," she said. "Somewhere, in some ole book, one time I read, 'The child will sure be blest all thro' the years Who's christened wiv 'is mother's 'appy tears."'

"Kiss 'im," she sez. I was afraid to take Too big a mouthful of 'im, fear 'e'd break. An' when 'e gits a fair look at me phiz 'E puckers up 'is nose, an' then--Geewhizz!

'Ow DID 'e 'owl! In'arf a second more Nurse 'ad me 'ustled clean outside the door. Scarce knowin' 'ow, I gits out in the yard, An' leans agen the fence an' thinks reel 'ard.

A long, long time I looks at my two 'ands. "They're all I got," I thinks, "they're all that stands Twixt this 'ard world an' them I calls me own. An' fer their sakes I'll work 'em to the bone."

Them vows an' things sounds like a lot o' guff. Maybe, it's foolish thinkin' all this stuff-- Maybe, it's childish-like to scheme an' plan; But--I dunno--it's that way wiv a man.

I only know that kid belongs to me! We ain't decided yet wot 'e's to be. Doreen, she sez 'e's got a poit's eyes; But I ain't got much use fer them soft guys.

I think we ort to make 'im something great-- A bookie, or a champeen'eavy-weight: Some callin' that'll give 'im room to spread. A fool could see 'e's got a clever 'ead.

I know 'e's good an' honest; for 'is eyes Is jist like 'ers; so big an' lovin'-wise; They carries peace an' trust where e'er they goes An', say, the nurse she sez 'e's got my nose!

Dead ring fer me ole conk, she sez it is. More like a blob of putty on 'is phiz, I think. But 'e's a fair 'ard case, all right. I'll swear I thort 'e wunk at me last night!

My wife an' fam'ly! Don't it sound all right! That's wot I whispers to meself at night. Some day, I s'pose, I'll learn to say it loud An' careless; kiddin' that I don't feel proud.

My son!...If there's a Gawd 'Oos leanin' near To watch our dilly little lives down 'ere, 'E smiles, I guess, if 'E's a lovin' one Smiles, friendly-like, to 'ear them words--My son.

XIV. The Mooch o' Life

This ev'nin' I was sittin' wiv Doreen, Peaceful an' 'appy wiv the day's work done, Watchin', be'ind the orchard's bonzer green, The flamin' wonder of the settin' sun.

Another day gone by; another night Creepin' along to douse Day's golden light; Another dawnin', when the night is gone, To live an' love--an' so life mooches on.

Times I 'ave thought, when things was goin' crook, When 'Ope turned nark an' Love forgot to smile, Of somethin' I once seen in some old book Where an ole sore-'ead arsts, "Is life worf w'ile?"

But in that stillness, as the day grows dim, An' I am sittin' there wiv 'er an' 'im My wife, my son! an' strength in me to strive, I only know--it's good to be alive!

Yeh live, yeh love, yeh learn; an' when yeh come To square the ledger in some thortful hour, The everlastin' answer to the sum Must allus be, "Where's sense in gittin' sour?"

Fer when yeh've come to weigh the good an' bad-- The gladness wiv the sadness you 'ave 'ad-- Then 'im 'oo's faith in 'uman goodness fails Fergits to put 'is liver in the scales.

Livin' an' lovin'; learnin' day be day; Pausin' a minute in the barmy strife To find that 'elpin' others on the way Is gold coined fer your profit--sich is life.

I've studied books wiv yearnings to improve, To 'eave meself out of me lowly groove, An' 'ere is orl the change I ever got: "'Ark at yer 'eart, an' you kin learn the lot."

I gives it in--that wisdom o' the mind-- I wasn't built to play no lofty part. Orl such is welkim to the joys they find; I only know the wisdom o' the 'eart.

An' ever it 'as taught me, day be day, The one same lesson in the same ole way: "Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends, Fer 'atin' never paid no dividends." Life's wot yeh make it; an' the bloke 'oo tries To grab the shinin' stars frum out the skies Goes crook on life, an' calls the world a cheat, An' tramples on the daisies at 'is feet.

But when the moon comes creepin' o'er the hill, An' when the mopoke calls along the creek, I takes me cup o' joy an' drinks me fill, An' arsts meself wot better could I seek.

An' ev'ry song I 'ear the thrushes sing That everlastin' message seems to bring; An' ev'ry wind that whispers in the trees Gives me the tip there ain't no joys like these:

Livin' an' lovin'; wand'rin' on yer way; Reapin' the 'arvest of a kind deed done; An' watchin', in the sundown of yer day, Yerself again, grown nobler in yer son.

Knowin' that ev'ry coin o' kindness spent Bears interest in yer 'eart at cent per cent; Measurin' wisdom by the peace it brings To simple minds that values simple things.

An' when I take a look along the way That I 'ave trod, it seems the man knows best, Who's met wiv slabs of sorrer in 'is day, When 'e is truly rich an' truly blest.

An' I am rich, becos me eyes 'ave seen The lovelight in the eyes of my Doreen; An' I am blest, becos me feet 'ave trod A land 'oo's fields reflect the smile o' God.

Livin' an' lovin'; learnin' to fergive The deeds an' words of some un'appy bloke Who's missed the bus--so 'ave I come to live, An' take the 'ole mad world as 'arf a joke.

Sittin' at ev'nin' in this sunset-land, Wiv 'Er in all the World to 'old me 'and, A son, to bear me name when I am gone.... Livin' an' lovin'--so life mooches on.

The Glossary

A.I.F.--Australian Imperial Force. Alley, to toss in the--To give up the ghost. Also ran, the--On the turf, horses that fail to secure a leading place; hence, obscure persons, nonentities. 'Ammer-lock (Hammer-lock)--A favourite and effective hold in wrestling. Ar--An exclamation expressing joy, sorrow, surprise, etc., according to the manner of utterance. 'Ard Case (Hard Case)--A shrewd or humorous person. 'Ayseed (Hayseed)--A rustic.

Back Chat--Impudent repartee. Back and Fill--To vacillate; to shuffle. Back the Barrer--To intervene without invitation. Barmy (Balmy)--Foolish; silly. Beak--A magistrate. (Possibly from Anglo-Saxon, Beag--a magistrate.) Beano--A feast. Beans--Coins; money. Beat--Puzzled; defeated. Beat, off the---Out of the usual routine. Beef (to beef it out)--To declaim vociferously. Bellers (Bellows)--The lungs. Biff--To smite. Bird, to give the--To treat with derision. Blighter--A worthless fellow. Bli'me--An oath with the fangs drawn. Blither--To talk at random, foolishly. Blob--A shapeless mass. Block--The head. To lose or do in the block--To become flustered; excited; angry; to lose confidence. To keep the block--To remain calm; dispassionate. Block, the--A fashionable city walk. Bloke--A male adult of the genus homo. Blubber, blub--To weep. Bluff--Cunning practice; make believe. v. To deceive; to mislead. Bob--A shilling. Bokays--Compliments, flattery. Boko--The nose. Bong-tong--Patrician (Fr. Bon ton). Bonzer, boshter, bosker--Adjectives expressing the superlative of excellence. Boodle--Money; wealth. Book--A bookie, q.v. Bookie--A book-maker (turf); one who makes a betting book on sporting events. Boot, to put in the--To kick a prostrate foe. Boss--Master, employer. Break (to break away, to do a break)--To depart in haste. Breast up to--To accost. Brisket--The chest. Brown--A copper coin. Brums--Tawdry finery (From Brummagem--Birmingham). Buckley's (Chance)--A forlorn hope. Buck-up--Cheer up. Bump--To meet; to accost aggressively. Bun, to take the--To take the prize (used ironically). Bundle, to drop the--To surrender; to give up hope. Bunk--To sleep in a "bunk" or rough bed. To do a bunk--To depart. Bunnies, to hawk the--To peddle rabbits. Bus, to miss the--To neglect opportunities.