"'Ere, Kid, drink this," she sez, an' smiles at me.
I looks--an' spare me days! It WAS BEEF TEA!
Beef tea! She treats me like a hinvaleed!
Me! that 'as caused 'er lovin' 'eart to bleed.
It 'urts me worse than maggin' fer a week!
'Er! 'oo 'ad right to turn dead sour on me,
Fergives like that, an' feeds me wiv beef tea...
I tries to speak;
An' then--I ain't ashamed o' wot I did--
I 'ides me face...an' blubbers like a kid.
XII. Uncle Jim
"I got no time fer wasters, lad," sez'e,
"Give me a man wiv grit," sez Uncle Jim.
'E bores 'is cute ole eyes right into me,
While I stares 'ard an' gives it back to 'im.
Then orl at once 'e grips me 'and in 'is:
"Some'ow," 'e sez, "I likes yer ugly phiz."
"You got a look," 'e sez, "like you could stay;
Altho' yeh mauls King's English when yeh yaps,
An' 'angs flash frills on ev'rythink yeh say.
I ain't no grammarist meself, per'aps,
But langwidge is a 'elp, I owns," sez Unk,
"When things is goin' crook." An' 'ere 'e wunk.
"Yeh'll find it tough," 'e sez, "to knuckle down.
Good farmin' is a gift--like spoutin' slang.
Yeh'll 'ave to cut the luxuries o' town,
An' chuck the manners of this back-street gang;
Fer country life ain't cigarettes and beer."
"I'm game," I sez. Sez Uncle, "Put it 'ere!"
Like that I took the plunge, an' slung the game.
I've parted wiv them joys I 'eld most dear;
I've sent the leery bloke that bore me name
Clean to the pack wivout one pearly tear;
An' frum the ashes of a ne'er-do-well
A bloomin' farmer's blossomin' like 'ell.
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