The Songs Of A Sentimental Bloke Part 9

An' ev'ry little while ole Uncle Jim Comes up to stay a bit an' pa.s.s 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.