The Moods of Ginger Mick | Page 9

Bair.
"Luck wus out wiv Green uv Sydney, where 'e stood at my right 'and, Fer they plunked 'im on the transport 'fore 'e got a chance to land. Then I saw 'em kill a feller wot I knoo in Camberwell,?Somethin' sort o' went inside me - an' the rest wus bloody 'ell.
"Thro' the smoke I seen 'im strivin', Craig uv Queensland, tall an' strong, Like an 'arvester at 'ay-time singin', swingin' to the song. An' little Smith uv Collin'wood, 'e 'owled a fightin' tune, On the day we chased Mahomet over Sari's sandy dune.
"An' Sari Bair, O Sari Bair, you seen 'ow it wus done,?The transports dancin' in yer bay beneath the bonzer sun;?An' speckled o'er yer gleamin' shore the little 'uddled 'eaps That showed at last the Southern breed could play the game fer keeps.
"We found 'im, Craig uv Queensland, stark, 'is 'and still on 'is gun. We found too many more besides, when that fierce scrap wus done. An' little Smith uv Collin'wood, he crooned a mournful air, The night we planted 'em beneath the sands uv Sari Bair.
"On the day we took the transport there wus cheerin' on the pier, An' we wus little chiner gawds; an' now we're sittin' 'ere, Wiv the taste uv blood an' battle on the lips uv ev'ry man?An' ev'ry man jist 'opin' fer to end as we began.
"Fer Green is gone, an' Craig is gone, an' Gawd! 'ow many more! Who sleep the sleep at Sari Bair beside that sunny shore!?An' little Smith uv Collin'wood, a bandage 'round 'is 'ead, He 'ums a savage song an' vows quick vengeance fer the dead.
"But Sari Bair, me Sari Bair, the secrets that you 'old?Will shake the 'earts uv Southern men when all the tale is told; An' when they git the strength uv it, there'll never be the need To call too loud fer fightin' men among the Southern breed."
VII. GINGER'S COBBER
"'E wears perjarmer soots an' cleans 'is teeth,"
That's wot I reads. It fairly knocked me flat,?"Me soljer cobber, be the name o' Keith."
Well, if that ain't the limit, strike me fat!?The sort that Ginger Mick would think beneath?'Is notice once. Perjarmers! Cleans 'is teeth?
Ole Ginger Mick 'as sent a billy-doo
Frum somew'ere on the earth where fightin' thick.?The Censor wus a sport to let it thro',
Considerin' the choice remarks o' Mick.?It wus that 'ot, I'm wond'rin' since it came?It didn't set the bloomin' mail aflame.
I'd love to let yeh 'ave it word fer word;
But, strickly, it's a bit above the odds;?An' there's remarks that's 'ardly ever 'eard
Amongst the company to w'ich we nods.?It seems they use the style in Ginger's trench?Wot's written out an' 'anded to the Bench.
I tones the langwidge down to soot the ears
Of sich as me an' you resorts wiv now.?If I should give it jist as it appears
Partic'lar folk might want ter make a row.?But say, yeh'd think ole Ginger wus a pote?If yeh could read some juicy bits 'e's wrote.
It's this noo pal uv 'is that tickles me;
'E's got a mumma, an' 'is name is Keith.?A knut upon the Block le used to be,
'Ome 'ere; the sort that flashes golden teeth,?An' wears 'or socks, an' torks a lot o' guff;?But Ginger sez they're cobbers till they snuff.
It come about like this: Mick spragged 'im first
Fer swankin' it too much abroad the ship.?'E 'ad nice manners an' 'e never cursed;
Which set Mick's teeth on edge, as you may tip.?Likewise, 'e 'ad two silver brushes, w'ich?'Is mumma give 'im, 'cos 'e fancied sich.
Mick pinched 'em. Not, as you will understand,
Becos uv any base desire fer loot,?But jist becos, in that rough soljer band,
Them silver-backed arrangements didn't soot:?An' etiket must be observed always.?(They fetched ten drinks in Cairo, Ginger says.)
That satisfied Mick's honour fer a bit,
But still 'e picks at Keith fer exercise,?An' all the other blokes near 'as a fit
To see Mick squirm at Keith's perlite replies,?Till one day Keith 'owls back "You flamin' cow!"?Then Mick permotes 'im, an' they 'as a row.
I sez "permotes 'im," fer, yeh'll understand
Ole Ginger 'as 'is pride o' class orl right;?'E's not the bloke to go an' soil 'is 'and
Be stoushin' any coot that wants to fight.?'Im, that 'as 'ad 'is chances more'n once?Up at the Stajum, ain't no bloomin' dunce.
Yeh'll 'ave to guess wot sort o' fight took place.
Keith learnt 'is boxin' at a "culcher" school.?The first three rounds, to save 'im frum disgrace,
Mick kids 'im on an' plays the gentle fool.?An' then 'e outs 'im wiv a little tap,?An' tells 'im 'e's a reg'lar plucky chap.
They likes each other better after that,
Fer Ginger alwus 'ad a reel soft spot?Fer blokes 'oo 'ad some man beneath their 'at,
An' never whined about the jolts they got.?Still, pride o' class kept 'em frum gettin' thick.?It's 'ard to git right next to Ginger Mick.
Then comes Gallipoli