The Moods of Ginger Mick | Page 2

walk uv 'im, put 'im among the crooks. An' Mick, 'e looks on swank an' style as jist a lot o' flam, An' snouted them that snouted 'im, an' never give a dam.
But spite uv orl 'is 'ulkin' frame, an' langwidge flowin' free I seen the thing inside uv Mick that made 'im good to me.?An' spite uv orl the sneerin' ways that leery blokes imploy, I knoo 'im jist fer wot 'e wus - a big, soft-'earted boy.
Fer when a bloke 'as come to be reel cobbers wiv a bloke,?They sorter swap good fellership wivout words bein' spoke.?I never slung no guff to Mick, 'e never smooged to me,?But we could smoke, an' 'old our jor, an' be reel company.
There 'as bin times that 'e would curse to 'ave recalled by me, When I 'ave seen 'im doin' things that coves calls charity; An' there's been times, an' frequent times, in spite uv orl 'is looks, When I 'ave 'eard 'im sayin' things that blokes shoves inter books.
But Ginger Mick was Ginger Mick - a leery boy, fer keeps,?'Oo 'owled "Wile Rabbee!" in the streets, in tones that gave yeh creeps. 'E never planned 'is mode uv life, nor chose the Lane fer lair, No more than 'e designed 'is chiv or colour uv 'is 'air.
So Ginger 'awked, an' Ginger pinched, an' Ginger went to quod, An' never thort to waste 'is time in blamin' man or God -?An' then there came the Call uv Stoush, or jooty - wot's a name? An' Ginger cocked 'is 'ear to it, an' found 'is flamin' game.
I intrajuice me cobber 'ere; an' don't make no ixcuse?To any culchered click that it's a peb I intrajuice.?I dunno wot 'is ratin' wus in this 'ere soshul plan;?I only know, inside o' me, I intrajuice a man.
MELBOURNE THE SENTIMENTAL BLOKE
April 25th, 1916.
I. DUCK AN' FOWL
Now, when a bloke 'e cracks a bloke fer insults to a skirt,
An' wrecks a joint to square a lady's name,?They used to call it chivalry, but now they calls it dirt,
An' the end of it is cops an' quod an' shame.?Fer insults to fair Gwendoline they 'ad to be wiped out;?But Rosie's sort is jist fair game-when Ginger ain't about.
It was Jimmie Ah Foo's cook-shop, which is close be Spadger's Lane,
Where a variegated comp'ny tears the scran,?An' there's some is "tup'ny coloured," an' some is "penny plain,"
Frum a lawyer to a common lumper-man.?Or a writer fer the papers, or a slaver on the prowl,?An' noiseless Chows a-glidin' 'round wiv plates uv duck an' fowl.
But if yeh wanted juicy bits that 'ung around Foo's perch
Yeh fetched 'em down an' wolfed 'em in yer place.?An' Foo sat sad an' solim, like an 'oly man in church,
Wiv an early-martyr look upon 'is face;?Wot never changed, not even when a toff upon a jag?Tried to pick up Ginger's Rosie, an' collided wiv a snag.
Ginger Mick's bin at the races, an' 'e'd made a little rise,
'Avin' knowed a bloke wot knowed the trainer's cook.?An' easy money's very sweet, as punters reckernise,
An' sweetest when yeh've prized it orf a "book."?So Ginger calls fer Rosic, an' to celerbrate 'is win?'E trots 'er down to Ah Foo's joint to splash a bit uv tin.
There wus lights, an' smells of Asia, an' a strange, Chow-'aunted scene;
Floatin' scraps of forrin lingo 'it the car;?But Rose sails in an' takes 'er scat like any soshul queen
Sich as stokes 'erself wiv foy grass orl the year.?"Duck an' Fowl" 's 'er nomination; so ole Ginger jerks 'is frame 'Cross to git some fancy pickin's, an' to give 'is choice a name.
While Ginger paws the tucker, an' 'as words about the price,
There's a shickered toff slings Rosie goo-goo eyes.?'E's a mug 'oo thinks 'e's 'it a flamin' 'all uv scarlet vice
An' 'e picks on gentle Rosie fer a prize.?Then 'e tries to play at 'andies, an' arrange about a meet; But Rosie fetches 'im a welt that shifts 'im in 'is seat.
Ginger's busy makin' bargins, an' 'e never seen the clout;
'E is 'agglin' wiv Ah Foo fer 'arf a duck;?But the toff's too shick or silly fer to 'cave 'is carkis out,
An' to fade while goin's good an' 'e's in luck.?Then Ginger clinched 'is bargin, an', as down the room 'e came, 'E seen the toff jump fritm 'is seat, an' call the girl a name.
That done it. Less than larf a mo, an' 'ell got orf the chain;
An' the swell stopped 'arf a ducklin' wiv 'is neck,?As Ginger guv the war-cry that is dreaded in the Lane.
An' the rest wus whirlin' toff an' sudden wreck.?Mick never reely stoushed 'im, but 'e used 'im fer a mop.?Then someone doused the bloomin' glim, an' Foo run fer a cop.
Down the stairs an' in the passidge come the shufflin' feet uv Chows,
An' a crash, as Ah