Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/110

 102 It wus playin' the game in the oval an' ring— An' playin' fer orl it wus worth— That give 'em the knack uv a punch wiv a sting When they fought fer the land uv their birth. They wus pebs, they wus narks, they wus reel naughty boys, But they didn't need no second 'int, So ere's to the bloke wiv 'is swearin' an' noise, An' 'is foot in a fathom uv lint.

There wus fellers I knoo in the soft days uv peace; An' I didn't know much to their good; An' they give more 'ard graft to the overworked p'leece Than a reel puffick gentleman should. They wus lookin' fer lash long before it wus doo; When it come, they wus into it, straight. So 'ere's to the bloke wiv 'is shoulder shot thro' 'Oo is cursin' the days 'e's to wait.

Ar, dickin to swank! when it comes to a mill, It's the bloke wiv a punch 'oo's yer friend. An' a coarse, narsty man wiv the moniker Bill Earns the thanks uv the crowd in the end. (An' when I sez "earns" I am 'opin' no stint Will be charged agin us by-an'-bye.) So 'ere's to the boy wiv 'is arm in a splint An' a "don't-care-a-dam" in 'is eye.