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C J Dennis - Before the War
Work rating: Low

"Before the war," she sighs.  "Before the war."
   Then blinks `er eyes, an` tries to work a smile.
"Ole scenes," she sez, "don`t look the same no more.
   Ole ways," she sez, "seems to `ave changed their style.
   The pleasures that we had don`t seem worth while --
Them simple joys that passed an hour away --
   An` troubles, that we used to so revile,
`Ow small they look", she sez.  "`Ow small today.

"This war!" sighs ole Mar Flood.  An` when I seen
   The ole girl sittin` in our parlour there,
Tellin` `er troubles to my wife Doreen.
   As though the talkin` eased `er load `uv care,
   I thinks uv mothers, `ere and everywhere,
Smilin` a bit while they are grievin` sore
   For grown-up babies, fightin` Over There;
An` then I `ears `em sigh, "Before the war."

My wife `as took the social `abit bad.
   I ain`t averse -- one more new word I`ve learned --
Averse to tea, when tea is to be `ad;
   An` when it comes I reckon that it`s earned.
   It`s jist a drink, as fur as I`m concerned,
Good for a bloke that toilin` on the land;
   But when a caller comes, `ere am I turned
Into a social butterfly, off-`and. 

Then drinkin` tea becomes a `oly rite.
   So`s I won`t bring the family to disgrace
I guts a bit `uv coachin` overnight
   On ridin` winners in this bun-fed race.
   I `ave to change me shirt, an` wash me face,
An` look reel neat, from me waist up at least,
   An sling remarks in at the proper place,
An` not makes noises drinkin`, like a beast.

"`Ave some more cake.  Another slice, now do.
   An` won`t yeh `ave a second cup uv tea?
`Ow is the children?"  Ar, it makes me blue!
   This boodoor `abit ain`t no good to me.
   I likes to take me tucker plain an` free:
Tea an` a chunk out on the job for choice,
   So I can stoke with no one there to see.
Besides, I `aven`t got no comp`ny voice.

Uv course, I`ve `ad it all out with the wife.
   I argues that there`s work that must be done.
An` tells `er that I `ates this tony life.
   She sez there`s jooties that we must not shun.
   You bet that ends it; so I joins the fun,
An` puts `em all at ease with silly grins -
   Slings bits uv repartee like "`Ave a bun,"
An` passes bread an` butter, for my sins.

Since I`ve been marri`d, say, I`ve chucked some things,
   An` learned a whole lot more to fill the space.
I`ve slung all slang; crook words `ave taken wings,
   An` I `ave learned to entertain with grace.
   But when ole Missus Flood comes round our place
I don`t object to `er, for all `er sighs;
   Becos I likes `er ways, I likes `er face,
An`, most uv all, she `as them mother`s eyes.

"Before the war," she sighs, the poor ole girl.
   `Er talk it gets me thinkin` in between,
While I`m assistin` at this social whirl. . . .
   She comes across for comfort to Doreen,
   To talk about the things that might `ave been
If Syd `ad not been killed at Suvla Bay,
   Or Jim had not done a bunk at seventeen,
An` not been heard uv since `e went away.

They `ave a little farm right next to us --
   `Er and `er husband - where they live alone.
Spite uv `er cares, she ain`t the sort to fuss
   Or serve up sudden tears an` sob an` moan,
   An` since I`ve known `er some`ow I `ave grown
To see in `er, an` all the grief she`s bore,
   A million brave ole mothers `oo `ave known
Deep sorrer since them days before the war.

"Before the war," she sez.  "Yeh mind our Syd?
   Poor lad. . . . But then, yeh never met young Jim --
`Im `oo was charged with things `e never did.
   Ah, both uv you`d `ave been reel chums with `im.
   `Igh-spirited `e was, a perfect limb.
It`s six long years now since `e went away --
   Ay, drove away."  `Er poor ole eyes git dim.
"That was," she sighs, "that was me blackest day.

"Me blackest day!  Wot am I sayin` now?
   That was the day the parson came to tell
The news about our Syd. . . . An`, yet, some`ow . . . .
   My little Jim!"  She pauses for a spell. . . .
   "Your `olly`ocks is doin` reely well,"
She sez, an` battles `ard to brighten up.
   "An` them there pinks uv yours, `ow sweet they smell.
An` - Thanks!  I think I will `ave one more cup."

As fur as I can get the strength uv it,
   Them Floods `ave `ad a reel tough row to how.
First off, young Jim, `oo plays it high a bit,
   Narks the ole man a treat, an` slings the show.
   The come the war, an` Syd `e `as to go.
`E run `is final up at Suvla Bay --
   One uv the Aussies I was proud to know.
An` Jim`s cracked `ardy since `e went away.

`Er Jim!  These mothers!  Lord, they`re all the same.
   I wonders if Doreen will be that kind.
Syd was the son `oo played the reel man`s game;
   But Jim `oo sloped an` left no word be`ind,
   His is the picter shinin` in `er mind.
`Igh-spirited!  I`ve `eard that tale before.
   I sometimes think she`d take it rather kind
To `ear that `is `igh spirits run to war.

"Before the war," she sez.  "Ah, times was good.
   The little farm out there, an` jist us four
Workin` to make a decent liveli`ood.
   Our Syd an` Jim! . . . Poor Jim!  I grieves me sore;
   For Dad won`t `ave `im mentioned `ome no more.
`E`s `urt, I know, cos `e thinks Jim `urt me.
   As if `e could, the bonny boy I bore. . . .
But I must off `ome now, an` git Dad`s tea."

I seen `er to the gate.  (Take it frum me,
   I`m some perlite.)  She sez, "Yeh mustn`t mind
Me talkin` uv Jim, but when I see 
   Your face it brings `im back; `e`s jist your kind.
   Not quite so `an`some, p`r`aps, nor so refined.
I`ve got some toys uv `is," she sez.  "But there --
   This is ole woman`s talk, an` you be`ind
With all yer work, an` little time to spare.

She gives me `and a squeeze an` turns away,
   Sobbin`, I thort; but then she looks be`ind,
Smilin`, an` wavin`, like she felt reel gay,
   I wonders `ow the women work that blind,
   An` jist waves back; then goes inside to find
A lookin`-glass, an` takes a reel good look. . . . 
   "`Not quite so `an`some, p`r`aps, nor so refined!`
Gawd `elp yeh, Jim," I thinks.  "Yeh must be crook."
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