Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/99

 Rabbits

R! Gimme fights wiv foemen I kin see, To upper-cut an' wallop on the jor. Life in a burrer ain't no good to me. 'Struth! This ain't war! Gimme a ding-dong go fer 'arf a round, An' you kin 'ave this crawlin' underground.

"Gimme a ragin', 'owlin', tearin' scrap, Wiv room to swing me left, an' feel it land. This 'idin', sneakin' racket makes a chap Feel secon'-'and. Stuck in me dug-out 'ere, down in a 'ole, I'm feelin' like I've growed a rabbit's soul."

Ole Ginger's left the 'orspital. it seems; 'E's back at Anzac, cursin' at the game; Fer this 'ere ain't the fightin' uv 'is dreams; It's too dead tame. 'E's got the oopizootics reely bad. An' 'idin' in a burrer makes 'im mad.

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