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C J Dennis - The Disillusioned FuseC 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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