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C J Dennis - Rose
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"Ah, wot`s the use?" she sez.  "Lea` me alone!
   Why can`t I go to `ell in my own way?
I never arst you `ere to mag an` moan.
   Nor yet," she sez, "to pray.
I`ll take wot`s comin`, an` whine no excuse.
            So wot`s the use?

"Me life`s me own!" she sez.  "You got a nerve --
   You two -- to interfere in my affairs.
Git out an` give advise where it may serve:
   Stay `ome an` bleat yer pray`rs.
Did I come pleadin` for yer pity?  No!
            Well, why not go?"

Pride!  Dilly pride an` down-an`-out despair:
   When them two meet there`s somethin` got to break.
I got that way, to see `er sittin` there,
   I felt like I could take
That `arf-starved frame uv `er`s by might an` main,
            An` shake `er sane.

That`s `ow it is when me an` parson roam
   Down to the paradise wot Spadgers knows,
To find the `ovel that she calls `er `ome,
   An` `ave a word with Rose.
Imgagin` `igh-strung cliners in dispute
            Ain`t my long suit.

"Huh!  Rescue work!" she sneers.  `Er eyes is bright;
   `Er voice is `ard.  "I`m a deservin` case.
Me? Fancy!  Don`t I look a pretty sight
   To come to savin` grace?
Pity the sinner -- Aw, don`t come that trick!
            It makes me sick!"

`Isterical she was, or nearly so:
   Too little grub, an` too much time to fret --
Ingrowin` grouch sich as few women know,
   Or want to know -- an` yet,
When I glance at the parson, there I see
            Raw misery.

I`ve knowed ole Snowy since the days uv old;
   Yet never `ad I got so close to see
A world-wise man `oo`s `cart is all pure gold
   An` `uman charity.
For, all that girl was suff`rln`, well I knoo,
            `E suffered too.

"My child," `e sez, "I don`t come `ere to preach.
   You`re a good girl; an` when --" "Oo sez I ain`t?
`Oo sez I ain`t?" `Er voice is near a screech.
   "I`m no hymn-singin` saint;
But you`re a bit too previous givin` me
             This third degree."

An` then she starts to laugh.  I`d `ate to see
   A woman laugh or look like that again.
She`s in the dinkum `igh-strikes now; to me
   That`s showin` pretty plain.
She`s like a torchered thing -- `arf crazy -- wild ....
             "Take thort, my child.

"Take thort," the parson sez.  "I only ask
   Before you risk all for a life uv crime
You`ll `esitate.  Is that too `ard to task?
   May there not come a time --"
"Time?  Yes," I chips.  "You`ll git that fer yer pains.
             Ar, brush yer brains!"

The parson sighs.  "This man," `E sez, "this Wegg
   `Oo dazzles you with tork uv gains frum sin --
Is `e dependable?  Think well, I beg --"
   "Beg nothin`," I chips in.
"To beg decoy ducks ain`t the proper tack.
             She wants a smack!"

The parson groans.  "I`ve offered you," `e starts.
   "Offer `er nothin`!  Can`t you pick `er like?
No dinkum `elp is any good to tarts
   `0o`d fall fer sich as Spike.
She`s short uv grit to battle on `er own,
            An` stand alone."

That done it.  If I`d let the parson gone
   An` come the mild an` gentle, sure enough,
She`d `ad the willies.  When the dames take on,
   The game`s to treat `em rough.
That`s wot I`ve `card.  It woke Rose up, all right,
            An` full uv fight.

"Alone?" she sez.  "I`ve stood alone, Gawd knows!
   Alone an` honest, battlin` on the square.
An` now -- Oh, damn your charity!  I`ve chose!
   I`m down; an` I don`t care.
I`m fer the easy life an` pretty clo`es.
            That`s that!" sez Rose.

The cause looks blue.  Wot more was to be said?
   An` then, all on me own, I weaves right there
The bright idear wot after bowed me `ead
   In sorrer an` despair.
I didn`t ort to be let out alone.
            That much I own.

"Ah, well," I sez, resigned, "if that`s the life,
   It`s no use sayin` wot I come to say.
Which was," I sez, "a message frum me wife
   Arstin` you `ome to stay."
"Your wife?" I nods.  "If you `ad cared to come."
            She seems struck dumb.

"Your wife?" she sez.  "Wot does she know uv me?"
   Then pride an` `er suspicions makes `er flare:
"Is this more pretty schemes fer charity?
   Why should she arst me there?"
"Why?  Well, you ort to know," I answer, quick.
            "Account uv Mick."

Down on `er folded arms `er `ead went, flop.
   At larst our `oly cause is won, I know.
She sobbed until I thort she`d never stop:
   It `urt to see `er so;
Yet I felt glad the way I`d worked me nob --
            An` let `er sob,

"That`s tore it," I remarks be`ind me `and.
   The parson nods.  `E`s smilin` now all gay.
Ten minutes later, an` the `ole thing`s planned
   Fer Rose`s `oliday.
We put the acid on, an` scold an` tease
            Till she agrees.

Once we`re outside the parson takes me `and.
   "Without your `elp, your wit, we would `ave failed."
"Aw, easy work," I answer, feelin` grand,
   Like some ole knight, tin-mailed.
Then, sudden, like a load uv punchered tyres,
            Me pride ixpires.

"Young friend," `e starts...... "No, not too young; but old --
   Old with the cares," I sez, "uv fambly life.
This might `ave been dead right when knights was bold;
   But wot about me wife?
She don`t know nothin`!  I `ave done me dash
            Through actin` rash."

"A trifle!" sez `is rev`rince.  "Tut!" sez `e.
   "I`ll promise you fair sailin` with Doreen."
"`Tain`t that so much," I sez, "wot troubles me."
   "Trouble?  Wot you mean?"
I grins at `im.  "Me conscience," I reply.
            "I`ve tole a lie!"
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