Jim of the Hills | Page 9

ain't.?At that she looked like she would faint.?"Then I was lost if I had gone?Along this road an' walked right on -
An unfrequented bush track, too!?How fortunate that I met you!"
"Yes, miss," I says. "Yes - what?" says she.?Says I, "Most fortunate . . . for me."
I don't know where I found the pluck?To blurt that out an' chance my luck.?"You'll walk," she says, "a short way back,?So you can put me on the track?"
"I'll take you all the way," says I,?An' looks her fair bang in the eye.
Later, I let myself right out,?An' talked: an' told her all about
The things I've done, an' what I do,?An' nearly all I'm hopin' to.?Told why I chose the game I'm at?Because my folks were poor, an' that.
She seemed reel pleased to hear me talk,?An' sort of steadied up the walk.
An' when I'd spoke my little bit,?She just takes up the thread of it;
An' later on, near knocks me down?By tellin' me she works - in town.?Works? her? I thought, the way she dressed,?She was quite rich; but she confessed
That makin' dresses was her game,?An' she was dead sick of the same.
When Good bye came, I lifts my hat;?But she holds out her hand at that.
I looked at mine, all stained with sap,?An' told her I'm a reel rough chap.?"A worker's hand," says she, reel fine,?"An' marked with toil; but so is mine.
We're just two toilers; let us shake,?An' be good friends - for labour's sake."
I didn't care to say no more,?For fear of what she'd take me for -
But just Good bye, an' turns away,?Bustin' with things I had to say.?I don't know how I got right home.?The wonder was I didn't roam
Off in the scrub, an' dream out there?Of her with sunlight in her hair.
At home I looks around the place,?An' sees the dirt a fair disgrace;
So takes an' tidies up a bit,?An' has a shave; an' then I sit?Beside my fire to have a think.?But my old dog won't sleep a wink;
He fools, an' whines, an' nudges me,?Then all at once I thinks of tea.
I beg his pardon wiht a smile,?An' talkin' to him all the while,
I get it ready, tellin' him?About that girl; but, "Shut up, Jim!"?He says to me as plain as plain.?"First have some food, an' then explain."
(I don't know how she came to tell,?But I found out her name is Nell.)
We gets our bit to eat at last.?(An', just for spite, he et his fast) . . .
I think that Nell's a reel nice name . . .?"All right, old dog, I ain't to blame?If you" . . . Just as I go to sup?My tea I stop dead, with my cup
Half up, an' . . . By the Holy Frost!?I wonder was Nell reely lost?
VIII. RED ROBIN
Hi, it's a funny world! This mornin' when I woke?I saw red robin on the fence, an' heard the words he spoke.
Red robin, he's a perky chap, an' this was his refrain:?"Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain."
To talk like that about his wife! It had me scandalized.?I'd heard him singin' so before, but never recognised
The meaning of his chatter, or that he could be so vain: "Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain."
I don't know how, I don't know why, but this reminded me?I was promised to the widow for this Sunday night to tea.
I'd promised her for weeks an' weeks, until she pinned me down. I recollects this is the day, an' gets up with a frown.
I was thinkin' of the widow while I gets me clobber on -?Like a feller will start thinkin' of the times that's past an' gone.
An', while my thoughts is runnin' so, that bird chips in again: "Dear, it's a pity that poor Jenny is so plain."
Now, the widow's name is Jenny, an' it strikes me sort of queer That my thoughts should be upon her when that robin's song I hear.
She ain't so homely neither; but she never could compare With a certain bonzer vision with the sunlight in her hair.
When I wander down that evenin', she come smilin' to the gate, An' her look is calculatin', as she scolds because I'm late.
She takes my hat an' sits me down an' heaves a little sigh. But I get a queer sensation from that glimmer in her eye.
She starts to talk about the mill, an' then about the strike, An' then she digs Ben Murray up an' treats him nasty-like;
She treats him crool an' cattish, as them soft, sweet women can. But I ups an' tells her plainly that I think Ben is a man.
First round to me. But she comes back, an' says Ben is a cad Who's made a laughin'-stock of her, an' treated her reel bad.
I twig she's out for sympathy; so counters