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C J Dennis - A Woman`s Way
Work rating: Low

Women is strange.  You take my tip; I`m wise.
   I know enough to know I`ll never know
The `uman female mind, or wot su`prise
   They `as in store to bring yer boastin` low.
They keep yeh guessin` wot they`re up to nex`,
An` then, odds on, it`s wot yeh least expecks.

Take me. I know me wife can twist me round
   `Er little finger. I don`t mind that none.
Wot worries me is that I`ve never found
   Which way I`m gittin` twisted, till it`s done.
Women is strange.  An` yet, I`ve got to own
I`d make a orful `ash uv it, alone.

There`s this affair uv Rose. I tells yeh straight,
   Suspicious don`t describe me state uv mind.
The calm way that Doreen `as fixed the date
   An` all, looks like there`s somethin` else be`ind.
Somethin` - not spite or meanness; don`t think that.
Me wife purrs sometimes, but she ain`t a cat.

But somethin`.  I`ve got far too wise a nob
   To be took in by `er airs uv repose.
I know I said I`d chuck the `ole darn job
   An` leave `er an` the parson deal with Rose.
But now me mind`s uneasy, that`s a fack.
I`ve got to manage things with speshul tack.

That`s `ow I feel - uneasy - when I drive
   Down to the train.  I`m thinkin` as I goes,
There ain`t two women, that I know, alive
   More difrint than them two - Doreen an` Rose.
`Ow they will mix together I dunno.
It all depends on `ow I run the show.

Rose looks dead pale.  She ain`t got much to say
   (`Er few poor bits uv luggage make no load)
She smiles when we shake `ands, an` sez Goodday
   Shy like an` strange; an` as we take the road
Back to the farm, I see `er look around
Big-eyed, like it`s some queer new land she`s found.

I springs a joke or two.  I`m none too bright
   Meself; but it`s a slap-up sort uv day.
Spring`s workin` overtime; to left an` right
   Blackwood an` wattle trees is bloomin` gay,
Botchin` the bonzer green with golden dust;
An` magpies in `em singin` fit to bust.

I sneak a glance at Rose. I can`t look long.
   `Er lips is trem`lin`; tears is in `er eye.
Then, glad with life, a thrush beefs out a song
   `Longside the road as we go drivin` by.
"Oh, Gawd A`mighty! `Ark!" I `ear `er say,
"An` Spadgers Lane not fifty mile away!"

Not fifty mile away: the frowsy Lane,
   Where only dirt  an` dreariness `as sway,
Where every second tale`s a tale uv pain,
   An` devil`s doin`s blots the night an` day.
But `ere is thrushes tootin` songs uv praise.
An` golden blossoms lightin` up our ways.

I speaks a piece to boost this bonzer spot;
   Tellin` `er `ow the neighbourhood `as grown,
An` `ow Dave Brown, jist up the road, `as got
   Ten ton uv spuds per acre, usin` bone.
She don`t seem to be list`nin`.  She jist stares,
Like someone dreamin` dreams, or thinkin` pray`rs.

Me yap`s a dud.  No matter `ow I try,
   Me conversation ain`t the dinkum brand.
I`m `opin` that she don`t bust out an` cry:
   It makes me nervis.  But I understand.
Over an` over I can `ear `er say,
"An` Spadgers less than fifty mile away!"

We`re `ome at last.  Doreen is at the gate.
   I hitch the reins, an` quite the eager pup;
Then `elp Rose down, an` stand aside an` wait
   To see `ow them two size each other up.
But quick - like that - two arms `as greeted warm
The sobbin` girl… Doreen`s run true to form.

"`Ome on the bit!" I thinks.  But as I turn,
   `Ere`s Wally Free `as got to poke `is dile
Above the fence, where `e`s been cuttin` fern.
   The missus spots `im, an` I seen `er smile.
An` then she calls to `im: "Oh, Mister Free,
Come in," she sez, "an` `ave a cup uv tea."

There`s tack!  A woman dunno wot it means.
   What does that blighter want with cups uv tea?
A privit, fambly meet - an` `ere Doreen`s
   Muckin` it all by draggin` in this Free.
She might `ave knowed that Rose ain`t feelin` prime,
An` don`t want no strange comp`ny at the time.

Free an` `is thievin` cow!  But, all the same,
   `Is yap did seem to cheer Rose up a lot.
An` after, when `e`d bunged `is lanky frame
   Back to `is job, Doreen sez, "Ain`t you got
No work at all to do outside to-day?
Us two must `ave a tork; so run away."

I went… I went becoz, if I `ad stayed,
   Me few remarks might `ave been pretty `or.
Gawbli`me!  `Oo is `ead uv this parade?
   Did I plan out the scheme, or did I not?
I`ve worked fer this, I`ve worried night an` day;
An` now it`s fixed, I`m tole to "run away."

Women is strange.  I s`pose I oughter be
   Contented; though I never understands.
But when I score, it `urts me dignerty
   To `ave the credit grabbed out uv me `ands.
I shouldn`t look fer credit, p`raps; an` then,
Women is strange.  But bli`me!  So is men!
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