Page:Digger Smith (C.J. Dennis, 1918).djvu/104

 'E's got 'is 'and up shadin' off the sun. Then 'e starts up to them; but Dad don't run: 'E isn't 'owlin' for 'is lost boy's kiss; 'E's got 'is own sweet way in things like this. 'E wanders up, an' stands an' looks at Jim. An', spare me days, that look was extra grim!

I seen the mother pluckin' at 'er dress; I seen the girl's white face an' 'er distress. An' Digger Smith, 'e looks reel queer to me: Grinnin' inside 'imself 'e seemed to be. At last Dad sez—oh, 'e's a tough ole gun!— "Well, are yeh sorry now for wot yeh done?"

Jim gives a start; but answers with a grin, "Well, Dad, I 'ave been learnin' discipline. An' tho' I ain't quite sure wot did occur Way back"—'e's grinnin' worse—"I'm sorry, sir." (It beats me, that, about these soldier blokes: They're always grinnin', like all things was jokes.)

P'r'aps Dad is gettin' dull in 'is ole age; But 'e don't seem to see Jim's cammyflage. P'r'aps 'e don't want to; for, in 'is ole eye, I seen a twinkle as 'e give reply. "Nex' week," 'e sez, "we will begin to cart The taters. Yeh can make another start."