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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357576" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ginger's Cobber</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">''E wears perjarmer soots an' cleans 'is teeth,'<br>That's wot I reads. It fairly knocked me flat,<br>'Me soljer cobber, be the name o' Keith.'<br>Well, if that ain't the limit, strike me fat!<br>The sort that Ginger Mick would think beneath<br>'Is notice once. Perjarmers! Cleans 'is teeth?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ole Ginger Mick 'as sent a billy-doo<br>Frum somew'ere on the earth where fightin' thick.<br>The Censor wus a sport to let it thro',<br>Considerin' the choice remarks o' Mick.<br>It wus that 'ot, I'm wond'rin' since it came<br>It didn't set the bloomin' mail aflame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'd love to let yeh 'ave it word fer word;<br>But, strickly, it's a bit above the odds;<br>An' there's remarks that's 'ardly ever 'eard<br>Amongst the company to w'ich we nods.<br>It seems they use the style in Ginger's trench<br>Wot's written out an' 'anded to the Bench.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I tones the langwidge down to soot the ears<br>Of sich as me an' you resorts wiv now.<br>If I should give it jist as it appears<br>Partic'lar folk might want ter make a row.<br>But say, yeh'd think ole Ginger wus a pote<br>If yeh could read some juicy bits 'e's wrote.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's this noo pal uv 'is that tickles me;<br>'E's got a mumma, an' 'is name is Keith.<br>A knut upon the Block le used to be,<br>'Ome 'ere; the sort that flashes golden teeth,<br>An' wears 'or socks, an' torks a lot o' guff;<br>But Ginger sez they're cobbers till they snuff.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It come about like this: Mick spragged 'im first<br>Fer swankin' it too much abroad the ship.<br>'E 'ad nice manners an' 'e never cursed;<br>Which set Mick's teeth on edge, as you may tip.<br>Likewise, 'e 'ad two silver brushes, w'ich<br>'Is mumma give 'im, 'cos 'e fancied sich.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mick pinched 'em. Not, as you will understand,<br>Becos uv any base desire fer loot,<br>But jist becos, in that rough soljer band,<br>Them silver-backed arrangements didn't soot:<br>An' etiket must be observed always.<br>(They fetched ten drinks in Cairo, Ginger says.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That satisfied Mick's honour fer a bit,<br>But still 'e picks at Keith fer exercise,<br>An' all the other blokes near 'as a fit<br>To see Mick squirm at Keith's perlite replies,<br>Till one day Keith 'owls back 'You flamin' cow!'<br>Then Mick permotes 'im, an' they 'as a row.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sez 'permotes 'im,' fer, yeh'll understand<br>Ole Ginger 'as 'is pride o' class orl right;<br>'E's not the bloke to go an' soil 'is 'and<br>Be stoushin' any coot that wants to fight.<br>'Im, that 'as 'ad 'is chances more'n once<br>Up at the Stajum, ain't no bloomin' dunce.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yeh'll 'ave to guess wot sort o' fight took place.<br>Keith learnt 'is boxin' at a 'culcher' school.<br>The first three rounds, to save 'im frum disgrace,<br>Mick kids 'im on an' plays the gentle fool.<br>An' then 'e outs 'im wiv a little tap,<br>An' tells 'im 'e's a reg'lar plucky chap.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They likes each other better after that,<br>Fer Ginger alwus 'ad a reel soft spot<br>Fer blokes 'oo 'ad some man beneath their 'at,<br>An' never whined about the jolts they got.<br>Still, pride o' class kept 'em frum gettin' thick.<br>It's 'ard to git right next to Ginger Mick.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then comes Gallipoli an' wot Mick calls<br>'An orl-in push fight multerplied be ten,'<br>An' one be one the orfficers they falls,<br>Until there's no one left to lead the men.<br>Fer 'arf a mo' they 'esitates stock still;<br>Fer 'oo's to lead 'em up the flamin' 'ill?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oo is to lead 'em if it ain't the bloke<br>'0o's 'eaded pushes down in Spadger's Lane,<br>Since 'e first learnt to walk an' swear an' smoke,<br>An' mixed it willin' both fer fun an' gain -<br>That narsty, ugly, vi'lent man, 'oo's got<br>Grip on the minds uv men when blood runs 'ot?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mick led 'em; an' be'ind 'im up the rise,<br>'Owlin' an' cursin', comes that mumma's boy,<br>'Is cobber, Keith, with that look in 'is eyes<br>To give the 'cart uv any leader joy.<br>An' langwidge! If 'is mar at 'ome 'ad 'eard<br>She would 'a' threw a fit at ev'ry word.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mick dunno much about wot 'appened then,<br>Excep' 'e felt 'is Dream uv Stoush come true;<br>Fer 'im an' Keith they fought like fifty men,<br>An' felt like gawds wiv ev'ry breath they drew.<br>Then Ginger gits it solid in the neck,<br>An' flops; an' counts on passin' in 'is check.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When 'e come to, the light wus gettin' dim,<br>The ground wus cold an' sodden underneath,<br>Someone is lyin' right 'longside uv 'im.<br>Groanin' wiv pain, 'e turns, an' sees it's Keith <br>Keith, wiv 'is rifle cocked, an' starin' 'ard<br>Ahead. An' now 'e sez ''Ow is it, pard?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mick gently lifts 'is 'ead an' looks around.<br>There ain't another flamin' soul in sight,<br>They're covered be a bit o' risin' ground,<br>An' rifle-fire is cracklin' to the right.<br>'Down!' sez the mumma's joy. 'Don't show yer 'ead!<br>Unless yeh want it loaded full o' lead.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, bit be bit, Mick gits the strength uv it.<br>They wus so occupied wiv privit scraps,<br>They never noticed 'ow they come to git<br>Right out ahead uv orl the other chaps.<br>They've bin cut orf, wiv jist one little chance<br>Uv gittin' back. Mick seen it at a glance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Ere, Kid,' 'e sez, 'you sneak around that 'ill.<br>I'm down an' out; an' you kin tell the boys;'<br>Keith don't reply to 'im but jist lies still,<br>An' signs to Ginger not to make a noise.<br>''Ere, you!' sez Mick, 'I ain't the man to funk <br>I won't feel 'ome-sick. Imshee! Do a bunk!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Keith bites 'is lips; 'e never turns 'is 'ead.<br>'Wot in the 'ell;' sez Mick, ''ere, wot's yer game?'<br>'I'm an Australian,' that wus all 'e said,<br>An' pride took 'old o' Mick to 'ear that name <br>A noo, glad pride that ain't the pride o' class -<br>An' Mick's contempt, it took the count at lars'!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All night they stayed there, Mick near mad wiv pain,<br>An' Keith jist lettin' up 'is watchful eye<br>To ease Mick's wounds an' bind 'em up again,<br>An' give 'im water, w'ile 'imself went dry.<br>Brothers they wus, 'oo found their brotherhood<br>That night on Sari Bair, an' found it good.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Brothers they wus. I'm wond'rin', as I read<br>This scrawl uv Mick's, an' git its meanin' plain,<br>If you, 'oo never give these things no 'eed,<br>Ain't got some brothers down in Spadger's Lane <br>Brothers you never 'ad the chance to meet<br>Becos they got no time fer Collins Street.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I'm an Australian.' Well, it takes the bun!<br>It's got that soft spot in the 'eart o' Mick.<br>But don't make no mistake; 'e don't gush none,<br>Or come them 'brother'ood' remarks too thick.<br>'E only writes, 'This Keith's a decent coot,<br>Cobber o' mine, an' white from cap to boot.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''E wears perjarmers an' 'e cleans 'is teeth,'<br>The sort o' bloke that Ginger once dispised!<br>But once a man shows metal underneath,<br> Cobbers is found, an' brothers reckernised.<br>Fer, when a bloke's soul-clobber's shed in war,<br>'E looks the sort o' man Gawd meant 'im for.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357576" data-title="Ginger's Cobber de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="''E wears perjarmer soots an' cleans 'is teeth,'
That's wot I reads. It fairly knocked me flat,
'Me soljer cobber, be the name o' Keith.'
Well, if that ain't the limit, strike me fat!
The sort that Ginger Mick would think beneath
'Is notice once. ..."></div>
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