---

C J Dennis - Digger Smith
Work rating: Low

`E calls me Digger; that`s `ow `e begins.
`E sez `e`s only `arf a man; an` grins.
  Judged be `is nerve, I`d say `e was worth two
      Uv me an` you.
Then `e digs `arf a fag out uv `is vest,
Borrers me matches, an` I gives `im best.

The first I `eard about it Poole told me.
"There is a bloke called Smith at Flood`s," sez `e;
  "Come there this mornin`, sez `e`s come to stay,
      An` won`t go `way.
Sez `e was sent there be a pal named Flood;
An` talks uv contracts sealed with Flanders mud.

"No matter wot they say, `e only grins,"
Sez Poole. "`E`s rather wobbly on `is pins.
  Seems like a soldier bloke. An` Peter Begg
      `E sez one leg
Works be machinery, but I dunno.
I only know `e`s there an` `e won`t go.

"`E grins," sez Poole, "at ev`rything they say.
Dad Flood `as nearly `ad a fit today.
  `E`s cursed, an` ordered `im clean off the place;
      But this cove`s face
Jist goes on grinnin`, an` he sez, quite carm,
`E`s come to do a bit around the farm."

The tale don`t sound too good to me at all.
"If `e`s a crook," I sez, "`e wants a fall.
  Maybe `e`s dilly. I`ll go round and see.
      `E`ll grin at me
When I `ave done, if `e needs dealin` with."
So I goes down to interview this Smith.

`E `ad a fork out in the tater patch.
Sez `e, "Why `ello, Digger. Got a match?"
  "Digger?" I sez. "Well, you ain`t digger `ere.
      You better clear.
You ought to know that you can`t dig them spuds.
They don`t belong to you; they`re ole Dad Flood`s."

"Can`t I?" `e grins. "I`ll do the best I can,
Considerin` I`m only `arf a man.
  Give us a light. I can`t get none from Flood,
      An` mine is dud."
I parts; an` `e stands grinning at me still;
An` then `e sez, "`Ave yeh fergot me, Bill?"

I looks, an` seen a tough bloke, short an` thin.
Then, Lord! I remembers that ole grin.
  "It`s little Smith!" I `owls, "uv Collin`wood.
      Lad, this is good!
Last time I seen yer, you an` Ginger Mick
Was `owling rags, out on yer final kick."  

"Yer on to it," `e sez. "Nex` day we sailed.
Now `arf uv me`s back `ome, an` `arf they nailed.
  An` Mick….Ar, well, Fritz took me down a peg."
      `E waves `is leg.
"It ain`t too bad," `e sez, with `is ole smile;
"But when I starts to dig it cramps me style.

But I ain`t grouchin`. It wos worth the fun.
We `ad some picnic stoushin` Brother `Un-
  The only fight I`ve `ad that some John `Op
      Don`t come an` stop.
They pulled me leg a treat, but, all the same,
There`s nothing over `ere to beat the game.

"An` now," `e sez,  "I`m `ere to do a job
I promised, if it was me luck to lob
  Back `ome before me mate," `e sez, an` then,
      `E grins again.
"As clear as mud," I sez. "But I can`t work
Me brains to `old yer pace. Say, wot`s the lurk?"

So then `e puts me wise. It seems that `im
An` this `ere Flood - I tips it must be Jim -
  Was cobbers up in France, an` things occurred.
      (I got `is word
Things did occur up there). But, anyway
Seems Flood done somethin` good for `im one day.

Then Smith `e promised if he came back `ome
Before `is cobber o`er the flamin` foam,
  `E`d see the ole folks `ere, an` `e agreed,
      If there was need,
`E`d stay an` do a bit around the farm
So long as `e had one sound, dinkum arm.

"So, `ere I am," `e sez, an` grins again.
"A promise is a promise `mong us men."
  Sez I, "You come up to the `ouse.
      Ole Dad won`t rouse
When once `e`s got yer strength, an` as for Mar,
She`ll kiss yeh when she finds out `oo yeh are."

So we goes up, an` finds `em both fair dazed
About this little Smith; they think `e`s crazed.
  I tells the tale in words they understand;
     Then it was grand
To see Dad grab Smith`s `and an` pump it good,
An` Mar, she kissed `im, like I said she would.

Mar sez `e must be starved, an` right away
The kettle`s on, she`s busy with a tray.
  An`, when I left, this Digger Smith `e looked
      Like `e was booked
For keeps, with tea an` bread an` beef inside.
"Our little Willie`s `ome," `e grins, "an` dried."
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.