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C J Dennis - The Crusaders
Work rating: Low

"Peter the `Ermit was a `oly bloke,"
   The parson sez, "wot chivvied coves to war."
   "Too right," I chips.  "I`ve `eard that yarn before."
"Brave knights sprung straight to arms where`er `e spoke."
"Sure thing," sez I. "It muster been no joke
   Tinnin` yer frame in them dead days uv yore
   Before yeh starts to tap a foeman`s gore."
 
"Peter the `Ermit was a man inspired,"
   The parson sez.  We`re moochin` up the Lane,
   Snoopin` around for news we might obtain
Uv this Spike Wegg, the man `oo I am `ired
To snatch by `ook or crook, jist as required
   By circs, frum out the sev`ril sins wot stain
   `Is wicked soul.  I `ope me meanin`s plain.

"Peter the `Ermit," sez the parson, "saw
   No `arm in vi`lince when the cause was just.
   While `e deplored, no doubt, the fightin` lust,
`E preached-" "`Old on," I sez.  "`Ere comes the Law:
`Ere`s Brannigan, the cop.  Pos`pone the jaw
   Till we confer. I got idears `e must
   Keep track uv Spike; if `e toils fer `is crust."

"Spike Wegg?" growls Brannigan.  "I know that bloke;
   An` `e`s the one sweet soul I long to see.
   That shrinkin` vi`lit `ates publicity
Jist now," sez Brannigan.  "Spike Wegg`s in smoke.
Oh, jist concerns a cove `e tried to croak.
   `E`s snug in some joint round about, maybe.
   If you should meet, remember `im to me."

The cop passed on.  "Peter the `Ermit was
   A ri`chus man," the parson sez, "wot knoo -"
   "`Old `ard!" I begs.  "Jist for a hour or two
I wouldn`t go an` nurse sich thorts, becoz
Too much soul-ferritin` might put the moz
   On this `ere expedition.  I`ll `elp you
   To search our conscience when the job is through.

"I know yer doubts," I sez, "an` `ow you `ate
   The thorts uv stoush, an` `old `ard blows in dread.
   But Pete the `Ermit`s been a long time dead.
`E`ll keep.  But we are in the `ands uv Fate,
An` `oly spruikers uv a ancient date
   Don`t `elp. I quite agrees with all you`ve said
   But-" "Say no more," `e answers.  "Lead ahead."

"But, all the same," `e sez, "I want no fight."
   "Right `ere, be`ind this `oardin`," I replies,
   "A two-up school`s in session.  If we spies
About a bit, there is a chance we might
Git news -" Jist then the spotter comes to light.
   I word `im gentle, with some `asty lies:
   I`m seekin` Spike.  See?  Can `e put me wise?

"Spike Wegg?" (At first `e only twigs meself)
   "`E`s gone-" (`E spots the parson standin` by)
   A cold, `ard glimmer comes in `is fish eye:
"`Ere!  Wot`s the game?" `e yelps.  "Are you a shelf?"
"`Ave sense!" I larfs.  "I got a bit uv pelf,
   An` thort I`d like to take a little fly -"
   "Buzz orfl" `e orders.  So we done a guy.

"Blank number one," I sez.  The parson sighed.
   "Joshuer fought, an` never seemed to shrink -"
   "Now, look," I tells `im.  "Honest.  Don`t you think
Them Bible blokes `oo`ve `ad their day an` died
Is best fergot until we`re `ome an` dried?
   Now, up the street `ere, is a little sink
   Uv sin that does a traffic in strong drink."

"Sly grog?" `e arsts.  But I sez, "`Ush!  This place
   Is kep` by Mother Weems, `oo`s sof`, blue eye
   An` snow-white `air would make yeh `shamed an` shy
To brand `er name with any sich disgrace.
`Er kind, sweet smile, `er innercint ole face.
   Beams like a blessin`.  Still, we`ll `ave a try
   To word the dear ole dame, an` pump `er dry.

`Is nibs stands in the shadders while I knock.
   Mother unlocks the door, an` smiles, an` peers
   Into me face.  She wears `er three score years
Reel sweet, in lacy cap an` neat black frock.
Then: "Bill," she cries.  "You`ve give me quite a shock!
   Why, dearie, I ain`t seen you for long years.
   Come in." `Er kind ole eyes seem close to tears.

"Dearie, come in," she chirps.  But I pretend
   I`m on reel urgent biz; I got to `aste
   "Jist for ole times," she pleads.  "One little taste."
"I can`t," I sez.  "I`m lookin` for a friend,
Spike Wegg, for `oo I`ve certin news no end
   Important; an` I got no time to waste."
   "Wot?  Spike?" she sez.  "I `ear `e`s bein` chased.

"`E`s bein` chased," she sez, "by D`s, I`ve `eard."
   "Too true," I owns.  "`E`s got no time to lose."
   "Well, maybe, if you was to try Ah Foo`s -
The privit room -" Then, as `is rev`rince stirred,
She seen `is choker.  "`Oo the `ell`s this bird?
   Is this a frame?" she shrieks… Without adoos,
   We slap the pavemint with four `asty shoes.

But, as along the sloppy lane we race,
   `Er `or words tumble after in a flood:
   "You pimps!  You dirty swine!  I`ll `ave yer blood!"
"`Eavings!" the parson gasps.  "With that sweet face!"
"`Er words," I answer, "do seem outer place."
   "Vile words, that I `ave scarce `arf understud."
   Sez Snowy, shoshin` in a pool uv mud.

We reach Ah Foo`s.  "Now, `ere," I sez, "is where
   You stop outside.  Twice you `ave put me queer
   It`s a lone `and I mean to play in `ere.
You `ang around an` breathe the `olesome air."
"Young friend," `e sez, "I go with you in there.
   I`ve led you into this.  Why should I fear
   The danger?  `Tis me jooty to be near."

Snowy`s a game un!  I lob in the shop,
   The parson paddin` after on the floor.
   Ah Foo looks up.  "Not there!" `e squeaks.  "Wha` for?"
But we sail past the Chow without a stop,
Straight for the little crib up near the top
   That I knoo well in sinful days uv yore…
   I turn the knob; an` sling aside the door.

Beside a table, fearin` `arm from none,
   Spike an` another bloke is teet-ah-teet.
   Quick on the knock, Spike Wegg jumps to `is feet
An` jerks a `and be`ind `im for `is gun.
I rush `im, grab a chair up as I run,
   An` swing it with a aim that ain`t too neat.
   Spike ducks aside; an`, with a bump, we meet.

An` then we mix it.  Strife an` merry `ell
   Breaks loose a treat, an` things git movin` fast.
   An`, as a Chinese jar goes crashin` past,
`Igh o`er the din I `ears the parson`s yell:
   "Hit! Hit `im `ard young friend.  Chastise `im well!
   "Hit `im!" . . . The `oly war is in full blast;
   An` Pete the `Ermit`s come to light at last.
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