Page:Digger Smith (C.J. Dennis, 1918).djvu/20

12 It's jist a drink, as fur as I'm concerned, Good for a bloke that's toilin' on the land; But when a caller comes, 'ere I am turned Into a social butterfly, off-'and.

Then drinkin' tea becomes an 'oly rite. So's I won't bring the fam'ly to disgrace I gits a bit uv coachin' overnight On ridin' winners in this bun-fed race. I 'ave to change me shirt, an' wash me face, An' look reel neat, from me waist up at least, An' sling remarks in at the proper place, An' not makes noises drinkin', like a beast.

"'Ave some more cake. Another slice, now do. An' won't yeh 'ave a second cup uv tea? 'Ow is the children?" Ar, it makes me blue! This boodoor 'abit ain't no good to me. I likes to take me tucker plain an' free: Tea an' a chunk out on the job for choice, So I can stoke with no one there to see. Besides, I 'aven't got no comp'ny voice.

Uv course, I've 'ad it all out with the wife. I argues that there's work that must be done. An' tells 'er that I 'ates this tony life. She sez there's jooties that we must not shun.