Page:Digger Smith (C.J. Dennis, 1918).djvu/44

36 "'E grins," sez Poole, "at ev'rything they say. Dad Flood 'as nearly 'ad a fit to-day. 'E's cursed, an' ordered 'im clean off the place; But this cove's face Jist goes on grinnin', an' 'e sez, quite carm, 'E's come to do a bit around the farm."

The tale don't sound too good to me at all. "If 'e's a crook," I sez, "'e wants a fall. Maybe 'e's dilly. I'll go down an' see. 'E'll grin at me When I 'ave done, if 'e needs dealin' with." So I goes down to interview this Smith.

'E 'ad a fork out in the tater patch. Sez 'e, "Why 'ello, Digger. Got a match?" "Digger?" I sez. "Well, you ain't digger 'ere. You better clear. You ought to know that you can't dig them spuds. They don't belong to you ; they're ole Dad Flood's."

"Can't I?" 'e grins. "I'll do the best I can, Considerin' I'm only 'arf a man. Give us a light. I can't get none from Flood, An' mine is dud." I parts; an' 'e stands grinnin' at me still; An' then 'e sez, "'Ave yeh fergot me, Bill?"