A punter's lament
I'ad the money in me 'and! Fair dinkum! Right there, by the stand. I tole me wife at breakfus' time, Straight out: "Trivalve," I sez "is prime. Trivalve," I sez. An', all the week, I swear ther's no one 'eard me speak Another 'orse's name. Why, look, I 'ad the oil straight from a Book On Sund'y at me cousin's place When we was torkin' of the race. "Trivalve," 'e sez. "'Is chance is grand." I 'ad the money in me 'and! Fair in me 'and I 'ad the dough! An' then a man 'as got to go -- Wot? Tough? Look, if I 'adn't met Jim Smith (I ain't forgave 'im yet) 'E takes an' grabs me be the coat. "Trivalve?" 'e sez. "Ar, turn it up! 'Ow could 'e win a flamin'Cup?" Of course, I thort 'e muster knoo. 'Im livin' near a trainer, too. Right 'ere, like that, fair in me fist I 'ad the notes! An' then I missed -- Missed like a mug fair on the knock Becos 'is maggin' done me block. "That airy goat?" 'e sez. "E's **********!" Fair knocked me back, 'e did. An' look, I 'ad the money in me 'and! Fair in me paw! An', un'erstand, Sixes at least I coulder got -- Thirty to five, an' made a pot. Today I mighter been reel rich -- Rollin' in dough! Instid o' which, 'Ere's me - Aw! Don't it beat the band? I 'AD THE MONEY IN ME 'AND! Put me clean off, that's wot 'e did ... Say, could yeh len' us 'arf a quid? "Den"
Herald, 2 November 1927
Poem by C.J Dennis
|