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C J Dennis - The Demon Milk
Work rating: Low

"Yer honor, please!" the prisoner said,
   "It isn`t wot you think.
To look on wine when it is red
   Or alco`olic drink
Is not among me little ways.
I been teetotal all me days.

It ain`t the wine, it ain`t the beer,
   It ain`t the gin-an`-two
That bows me `ead in sorrer `ere.
   `Tain`t no fermented brew
That druv me on to sin an` strife.
Hark: `Ere`s the story of me life.

When I was just a little kid
   I was a model child.
Wot I was tole to do I did,
   Reel innercint an` mild.
But, bein` wise, an` unlike some,
At one year old I `owled for rum.

Me nurse, wot was a strict t.t.
   Aimed my young soul to bilk,
An` every day she flooded me
   Wiv quarts an` quarts of milk.
Oh, `ow the stuff coursed thro` each vein
An` set on fire me tiny brain.

At five, as well may be believed,
   I was a little tough;
For by that then I `ad conceived
   A cravin` for the stuff.
I swiped it from each neighbor`s door,
An` roamed the district seekin` more.

The cravin`, sir, it got me down,
   When I grew to a man;
I raided dairies thro` the town,
   Pinched bottle, billy-can,
An` never could resist no`ow
The fascination of a cow.

It ain`t the rum, it ain`t the beer --
    Oh, `ow I wish it was! --
That brings me ignominy `ere.
    `Ave pity, sir, becos
It was the demon milk, I vows,
That made me pinch that `erd of cows."
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