The Songs Of A Sentimental Bloke Part 7

O, lumme! But ole Ginger was a trick!

Got up regardless fer the solim rite.

('E 'awks the bunnies when 'e toils, does Mick) An' twice I saw 'im feelin' fer a light To start a f.a.g; an' trembles lest'e might, Thro' force o' habit like. 'E's nervis too; That's plain, fer orl 'is air o' bluff an' skite; An' jist as keen as me to see it thro'.

But, 'struth, the wimmin! 'Ow they love this frill!

Fer Auntie Liz, an' Mar, o' course, wus there; An' Mar's two uncles' wives, an' Cousin Lil, An' 'arf a dozen more to grin and stare.

I couldn't make me 'ands fit anywhere!

I felt like I wus up afore the Beak!

But my Doreen she never turns a 'air, Nor misses once when it's 'er turn to speak.

Ar, strike! No more swell marridges fer me!

It seems a blinded year afore 'e's done.

We could 'a' fixed it in the registree Twice over 'fore this cove 'ad 'arf begun.

I s'pose the wimmin git some sorter fun Wiv all this guyver, an' 'is nibs's s.h.i.+rt.

But, seems to me, it takes the bloomin' bun, This stylish splicin' uv a bloke an' skirt.

"To--be--yer--weddid--wife--" Aw, take a pull!

Wot in the 'ell's 'e think I come there for?

An' so 'e drawls an' drones until I'm full, An' wants to do a duck clean out the door.

An' yet, fer orl 'is 'igh-falutin' jor, Ole Snowy wus a reel good-meanin' bloke.

If 'twasn't fer the 'oly look 'e wore Yeh'd think 'e piled it on jist fer a joke.

An', when at last 'e shuts 'is little book, I 'eaves a sigh that nearly bust me vest.

But 'Eavens! Now 'ere's muvver goin' crook!

An' sobbin' awful on me manly chest!

(I wish she'd give them water-works a rest.) "My little girl!" she 'owls. "O, treat'er well!

She's young--too young to leave 'er muvver's nest!"

"Orright, ole chook," I nearly sez. Oh, 'ell!

An' then we 'as a beano up at Mar's-- A slap-up feed, wiv wine an' two big geese.

Doreen sits next ter me, 'er eyes like stars.

O, 'ow I wished their blessed yap would cease!

The Parson-bloke 'e speaks a little piece, That makes me blush an' 'ang me silly 'ead.

'E sez 'e 'opes our lovin' will increase-- I LIKES that pilot fer the things 'e said.

'E sez Doreen an' me is in a boat, An' sailin' on the matrimonial sea.

'E sez as 'ow 'e 'opes we'll allus float In peace an' joy, from storm an' danger free.

Then muvver gits to weepin' in 'er tea; An' Auntie Liz sobs like a winded colt; An' Cousin Lil comes 'round an' kisses me; Until I feel I'll 'AVE to do a bolt.

Then Ginger gits end-up an' makes a speech-- ('E'd 'ad a couple, but 'e wasn't s.h.i.+ck.) "My cobber 'ere," 'e sez, "'as copped a peach!

Of orl the barrer-load she is the pick!

I 'opes 'e won't fergit 'is pals too quick As wus 'is frien's in olden days, becors, I'm trustin', later on," sez Ginger Mick, "To celebrate the chris'nin'."...'Oly wars!

At last Doreen an' me we gits away, An' leaves 'em doin' nothin' to the scran.

(We're honey-moonin' down beside the Bay.) I gives a 'arf a dollar to the man Wot drives the cab; an' like two kids we ran To ketch the train--Ah, strike! I could 'a' flown!

We gets the carridge right agen the van.

She whistles, jolts, an' starts...An' we're alone!

Doreen an' me! My precious bit o' fluff!

Me own true weddid wife!...An' we're alone!

She seems so frail, an' me so big an' rough-- I dunno wot this feelin' is that's grown Inside me 'ere that makes me feel I own A thing so tender like I fear to squeeze Too 'ard fer fear she'll break...Then, wiv a groan I starts to 'ear a coot call, "Tickets, please!"

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 pa.s.s '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."