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C J Dennis - Termarter Sorce
Work rating: Low

It was n`t kid stakes.  I `ad no crook lurk
   To act deceivin`, or to treat `er mean.
I`m old enough to know them games don`t work --
   Not with Doreen.
Besides, deceit ain`t in me bag uv tricks.
I got a few; but there is some that sticks.

Sticks in me gizzard.  Some blokes sees no wrong
   In workin` points, an` thinks it bonzer sport
To trifle with a wife`s belief, so long
   As they ain`t cort.
But, when yeh play the game on dead straight lines,
It `urts to be accused uv base designs.

It starts this mornin`.  I wake with a tooth
   That`s squirmin` like a basketful uv snakes.
Per`aps I groan a bit, to tell the truth;
   An` then she wakes,
An` arsts me wot I`m makin` faces for.
I glare at `er, an` nurse me achin` jor.

That was no very `appy mornin` song.
   I ain`t excusin` my end uv the joke;
But, after that, things seem to go all wrong.
   She never spoke
One narsty word; but, while the chops she serves,
`Er shrieks uv silence fair got on me nerves.

She might `ave arst wot ailed me.  Spare me days I
   She seen that I was crook.  She seen me face
Swelled like a poisoned pup`s.  She only says,
   "Please to say grace."
I mumbles ... Then, in tones that wakes brute force,
She twitters, "Will yeh take termarter sorce?"

I could n`t eat no breakfast. Just the sight
   Uv sweet things give me tooth a new, worse ache.
Sez she: "You seem to lost yer apetite.
   `Ave some seed cake."
Seed cake!  Gawstruth!  I`m there in agerny,
An` she, `oo swore to love, sits mockin` me.

At last, when our small son gits orf to school,
   I goes an` sits down sulkin` on a couch.
"`Ave you a toothache, Bill?" sez she, quite cool,
   "Or jist plain grouch?
Yer face looks funny.  P`raps yer gittin` fat."
I glare at `er an` answer, "Huh!" . . like that.

That one word, "Huh," said in a certain way, -
   `Eart-felt an` with intention-it can well
Make the beginnin`s uv a perfick day
   A perfick `ell.
So I sez "Huh! ...... an` then done my ole trick
(A low-down lurk) uv gittin` orf-stage quick.

It was a slap-up day.  The wattle`s gold
   `Ad jist began to peep among the green;
An` dafferdils, commencin` to unfold,
   They make the scene
A pitcher that -- `Struth!  `Ow that tooth did ache!
An`, cravin` symperthy, I git -- seed cake!

It was a bonzer day!  The thrush`s song
   Rose like a nymn.  A touch uv queer remorse
Gits me fer `arf-a-mo`, then goes all wrong.
   Ter-marter sorce!
Women don`t understand, it`s all too plain.
Termarter sorce, she sez, an` me in pain!

I dunno `ow the mornin` muddled through.
   That naggin` tooth was gittin` reel red-`ot.
I `ad a `arf a dozen things to do,
   An` slummed the lot.
Then, jist before I goes fer mornin` tea,
I start another row with Wally Free.

I tells `im if that fence ain`t mended -- now --
   I`ll summons `im.  But `e jist stands an` grins.
`E`s always grinnin`.  Silly lookin` cow I
   An` fer two pins
I`d go acrost an` give `is eye a poke.
`E`s far too `appy -- fer a single bloke.

While I am boilin` `ot, Doreen conies out
   To call me fer me mornin` cup o` tea.
I turn an` answer with a savage shout.
   "Dear me!" sez she.
"You seem to be put out this mornin`, Bill.
`E`ll mend the fence, all right.  I`m sure `e will."

"Aw!  It ain`t that," I sez .... Then I let go,
   When once we git inside, an` ease me mind
By tellin` `er some things she ought to know.
   I seemed to find
A lot uv things that `elped to make me sore;
An` they remind me uv a `ole lot more.

I tells `er that no wife, `oo was n`t blind,
   Would treat `er `usban` like a block uv wood.
I sez I could n`t understand `er mind --
   Blowed if I could!
I tells `er that no woman with a brain
An` `eart would smile to see a man in pain.

I sez some wives -- some sorts uv wives, uv course,
   If you was lyin` dead, no more to wake,
Would arst yeh if yeh liked termarter sorse,
   Or else seed cake.
I sez I don`t look for no fond caress,
But symperthy, an` un`erstandin`?  Yes!

I sez, sarcastic, that I `ave no doubt
   Some wives might think termarters an` seed cake
Was `andy sorts uv things to `ave about
   To stop toothache.
But wot I liked in wives, once in a while,
Was commin-sense. (An` `ere, I seen `er smile).

An` then I sez: "Gorbli` me!  Ain`t I worked
   Me fingers to the bone, an` toiled an` slaved?
Some fellers, if their wives `ad smiled an` sn-drked
   An` so be`aved" ......
(She pours the tea, an` `ands acrost my cup)
"Would lose their tempers, yes, an` smash things up!"

I sez -- 0h, other things in that same strain.
     I ain`t got any fancy to recall.
(That tooth jist `ad me jumpin` mad with pain)
   But through it all,
With them fool speeches bubblin` in me throat,
I saw meself a bleatin`, babblin` goat.

I gulps me tea; already `arf ashamed
   Uv more than `arf I`d said.  But is me wife
All `umble, like a woman `oo`s been blamed?
   Not on yer life!
She answers me as if she was me mar.
"There, there," she sez.  "Wot a big kid you are!"

I gulps more tea; an` tells `er, anyway,
    Me toothache ain`t a thing to joke about;
An` I will `ave to go to town to-day
    An` `ave it out.
At that, she looks at me with `er calm eyes
Searchin` me through an` through `fore she replies.

Then, "Bill," sez she, "tell me the honest truth:
   Does your tooth ache, or is this an excuse?
Why, yesterd`y you `ad no achin` tooth .......
   Aw, wot`s the use!
"Excuse! Wot for?" I yells.  But she sez, "Oh,
If it`s that bad I s`pose you`ll `aye to go."

"Excuse!" I sez.  "I know wot`s in yer mind.
   Yeh think I can`t read wonien`s thoughts, I s`pose.
Yeh think that I planned this so I could find
   Wot`s `appened Rose.
Yeh think I`ve come the double, lied an` schemed
About a thing I never even dreamed!

"Yeh think --" "There, there!" she sez to me again,
   Soothin` an` soft, still like a patient mar.
"It`s plain you`ll never understand, you men,
   Wot women are,
Their thorts, their feelin`s, `ow they fear an` doubt.
Why, Bill, it`s only you I think about."

I knoo.  Somewhere inside me silly nob
   I knoo wot thort it is she won`t explain.
She feared, if I got with the old, crook mob
   In Spadgers Lane
That I might miss the step.  I`ve never queered
The pitch in eight long years; an` yet she feared.

"I`ll promise you -- " I starts.  But she sez, "Don`t!
    Don`t promise wot you might regret some day.
I trust you, Bill; an` well I know you won`t
    Choose the wrong way.
Women are silly sometimes.  Let`s ferget
All that was said .... Is that tooth achin` yet?"

I gives it up! ... It`s fairly got me beat,
   The twists an` turin` uv a wonian`s mind.
Nex` thing, she`s smilin` up at me so sweet,
   So soft an` kind
That I -- with things still in me mind to tell --
   I melts -- jist like I always do.  Ah, well!

It was a snodger day! . . . The apple trees
   Was white with bloom.  All things seemed good to me
(Except that tooth).  Then by the fence I sees
   Poor Wally Free,
Pretendin` to be happy with `is plough.
Poor lonely coot!  I pity `im, some`ow.
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