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C J Dennis - The Disillusioned Fuse
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Beneath a lamp in Spring-street, on a recent calm spring night,
I came unwittingly upon a most pathetic sight;
A sorry spectacle of woe - a limp, despondent Bloke
Who leaned against a post and sobbed and said his heart was broke!
"I`ve lorst me trust in `uman men; I`ve done me dash ter-day;
Fer my own cobber`s done me in, and guv me game away!"

"Nay, nay," said I, "cheer up, good Bloke.  The prospect may look blue;
But Fate is wont to deal hard knocks to folk like me and you.
Remember, men have fought and won an uphill fight before,
Pray, tell me what`s befallen you that you should grieve so sore.
Say, has your wife deserted you, or have you lost your tin?"
But still the Bloke said bitterly: "Me cobber`s done me in!"

"Me moniker`s Deakook," he said, "but blokes calls me `The Fuse.`
(Oh, `struth! I nearly dropped me bundle when I `eard the noos!)
I gets a job o` work to do - a real soft cop it wus,
With no foreman over me ter see `ow much I does,
Excep` some coves they calls the Press - a noisy sorter crew
Thet allus nags an` growls at yer no matter watcher do.

"Some wanted this, some wanted that, an` uvers wanted bofe.
Thinks I, `Between `em all it`s up ter me ter do a loaf.`
So I jus` took ter sittin` round all day an` crackin` jokes,
An` dealin` out a bit o` stoush ter Opposition blokes.
There wus a press cove called the HAGE took ter me frum the first;
But blimey" - (Here the poor Bloke sobbed as though his heart would burst.)

"Yuss, frum the first `e took ter me, an` we wus goin` fine,
Until I come ter look on `im as quite a pal o` mine.
Fer when `e sez, `You`ll `ave ter graft on this `ere job, yer know,`
I winks an` murmurs `Dicken,` an` `e winks an` sez `Righto!`
An` when I jus` perten`s ter graft `e cracks `e doesn`t see;
So I jus` grins an` winks at `im, an` `e jus` winks at me.

"O, blimey!  Them was golding days, wif not a stroke ter do
Excep` ter line up ev`ry week an` dror me bloomin` screw.
O` course, ther`s some thet chips at me an` bellers in a rage;
But I jus` grins an` tips the wink ter `im they calls the HAGE.
An` `e speaks up quite serious: ``Ow kin I work,` sez `e,
`When these `ere Opposition blokes are all obstructin` me?`

"My oath, it wus an orlright cop!  I thort I`d struck it rich.
`Ow could I know" (again he sobbed) "thet `e would crool me pitch?
One day `e sez, quite sudding like, `This job must be put thro`,`
An` I jus` winks an` murmurs, `Dicken,` like I useter do.
But strike!  You could `ave outed me in one, when, `fore I knowed,
`E turns around on me and sez, quite narsty, `You be blowed!`

"`You`ll `ave ter get ter work,` `e sez, `on this `ere job, or leave.
Fer w`y,` `e sez, `I`m sick o` this `ere game o` make-believe.
Yer jus` perten` ter work,` `e sez. `Yer`re loafin` day an` night.
Don`t grin an` wink at me,` `e sez, `yer blanky hippercryte!
Wot are yer `ere fer anny way?  Wot did we pay yer for?
We wants more solid graft,` `e sez, `an` less infernal jore!`

"An` that wus `im I called me pal - me cobber staunch an` true!
`E turns around on me like that an` gives me graft ter do!
Graft, w`ich was the mean sorter thing I allays `ad despised.
Oh, `ow wus I ter know `e wus a sorter John disguised?
`E let me loaf fer munce and munce, an` sets me workin` now.
An`, blimey, Mister, I would work, but, `struth, I dunno `ow!

"I dunno `ow ter do the work; an` spare me, if I did,
I couldn`t go ter do it, `cos me doctor `as forbid.
`E sez that I`m worn out in ev`ry part excep` me cheek;
An` if I start ter graft I`ll go ter pieces in a week.
An` if I lose me job I`ll `ave no tucker, bed or roof.
For w`y?  Me cobber`s done me in! `E`s gone and told the troof."

I tried to soothe the stricken Bloke, and still his mournful din;
But yet he murmured brokenly, "Me cobber`s done me in!"
And if you roam in Spring-street when the House adjourns at night,
You`ll probably encounter this most pitiable sight.
He leans against his post and sobs, prostrated by the news -
The Bloke whose cobber did him in, the disillusioned Fuse.
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