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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357630" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Introduction: Rose of Spadgers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've crawled; I've eaten dirt; I've lied a treat;<br>I've dodged the cops an' led a double life;<br>I've readied up wild tales to tell me wife,<br>W'ich afterwards I've 'ad to take an' eat<br>Red raw. Aw, I been goin' it to beat<br>A big massed band: mixin' with sin an' strife,<br>Gettin' me bellers punchered with a knife<br>An' all but endin' up in Russell Street.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've mixed it - with the blessin' uv the church -<br>Down there in Spadgers, fightin' mad, an' blind<br>With 'oly rage. I've 'ad full leaf to smirch<br>Me tongue with sich rude words as come to mind,<br>Becos I 'ated leavin' in the lurch<br>Wot Ginger Mick, me cobber, left be'ind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Don't git me wrong. I never went an' planned<br>No gory all-in scraps or double deals.<br>But one thing follered on another 'eels,<br>Jist like they do in life, until I land<br>Flop in the soup - surprised, you understand,<br>But not averse; jist like a feller feels<br>'Oo reaches fer the water-jug at meals<br>An' finds a dinkum gargle in 'is 'and.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Su'prised but not averse. That puts it right<br>An', if Fate 'as these things all fixed before,<br>Well, wot's a bloke to do, to 'oo a fight<br>Was not unwelkim in the days of yore?<br>Pertickler when 'e knows 'is cause is right<br>An' 'as a gorspil spritiker to ongcore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Regardin' morils, I was on a cert;<br>Fer if I'd missed the step an' fell frum grace<br>By rudely pushin' in me brother's face<br>Without no just ixcuse, it might uv 'urt.<br>But this Spike Wegg - the narsty little squirt! -<br>Collected 'is becos ther' was no trace<br>Uv virchoo in the cow. 'Is aims was base<br>When 'e laid out to tempt a honest skirt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An' so me arm was strong becoz me cause<br>Was on the square, an' I don't 'esitate.<br>The parson bloke, 'e sez all moril laws<br>They justified me act . . . . But, anyrate,<br>Before I crools this yarn we better pause<br>Till I gives you the dope an' git it straight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, Ginger Mick, me cobber, went to war,<br>An' on Gallipoli, 'e wandered West.<br>Per'aps, less said about 'is life the best;<br>It was 'is death that shoved along 'is score.<br>But that tale's old; an' Ginger ain't no more.<br>'E done 'is bit an' faded, like the rest<br>'Oo fought an' fell an' left wot they loved best<br>In 'opes they'd be dealt fair by pals of yore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An' all Mick left was Rose. 'Look after Rose.<br>Mafeesh!' 'e sez when 'e was on the brink.<br>An' there was thousan's like 'im, I suppose.<br>I ain't no moralizer fer to think<br>Wot others ort to do; I only knows<br>I 'ad me job, frum w'ich I durstn't shrink.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unless you 'ave a beat down Spadgers way<br>I don't ixpect you ever met with Rose.<br>She don't move in yer circle, I suppose,<br>Or call to bite a bun upon yer Day.<br>An' if yeh got a intro, I dare say<br>Yeh'd take it snifty an' turn up yer nose.<br>Now that we don't need Micks to fight our foes<br>Them an' their Roses 'as to fade away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They 'ave to simmer down an' not ubtrude,<br>Now we are safe an' finished with the war.<br>We don't intend to be unkind or rude<br>Or crayfish on the things we said before<br>Uv our brave boys. An', as fer gratichood,<br>Well, there's a Guv'mint, ain't there? Wot's it for?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But Mick buzzed orf too quick to wed a bride<br>An' leave a widder doo fer Guv'mint aid.<br>Spite uv ole Spadgers, Rose was still a maid;<br>An' spite uv Spadgers, she still 'as 'er pride<br>That wouldn't let 'er whimper if she tried,<br>Or profit by 'er misery, an' trade<br>On Mick's departin' an' the noise it made.<br>I know 'er. An' I know she'd sooner died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know 'er. But to them that never knows,<br>An' never tries to know the 'earts an' ways<br>Uv common folk, there wus n't much to Rose<br>That called fer any speshul loud 'Oorays -<br>Nothin' 'eroic. She's jist 'one uv those' -<br>One uv the ruck that don't attract our gaze.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I guess you was n't born down Spadgers way,<br>Or spent yer child'ood in the gutter there<br>Jist runnin' wild, or dragged up be the 'air<br>Till you was fit to earn a bit of pay<br>By honest toil or - any other way.<br>You never 'ad to battle to keep square,<br>Or learn, first 'and, uv every trap an' snare<br>That life 'as waitin' for yeh day by day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I 'ave read about a flower that grows<br>Once in a while upon a 'eap uv muck.<br>It ain't the flower's own choosin', I suppose,<br>An' bein' sweet an' pure is jist its luck.<br>There's 'uman blooms I've knowed the like uv those,<br>Strugglin' in weeds; an' 'struth! I like their pluck.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Don't make no error. I ain't givin' Rose<br>The 'igh-bred manners uv some soshul queen.<br>She were n't no shrinkin', simperin', girleen,<br>With modest glances droopin' to 'er toes.<br>She'd smash a prowlin' male acrost the nose<br>As quick as any tart I ever seen.<br>But, bli'me, she was straight an' she was clean,<br>As more than one mauled lady-killer knows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Straight as a die! An' jist as clean an' sweet<br>An' thorny as the bloom 'oose name she bears.<br>To cling on to 'er virchoo weren't no feat<br>With 'er; she simply kep' it unawares<br>An' natchril, like people trust their feet,<br>An' don't turn silly 'and-springs on the stairs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That's 'ow Mick found, an' left 'er - straight an' clean.<br>She seen the good in 'im long years before<br>'E proved it good an' plenty at the war.<br>She loved an' mothered 'im becos she seen<br>The big, softhearted boy 'e'd alwiz been<br>Be'ind 'is leery ways an' fightin' jor,<br>An' all 'is little mix-ups with the Lor.<br>She knoo 'e weren't the man to treat 'er mean.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They was a proper match. But Mick, 'e goes<br>An' slips 'is wind, there, on Gallipoli;<br>Jist pausin' to remark, 'Look after Rose.'<br>An', if them partin' words weren't meant fer me,<br>Well, I'm the gay angora, I suppose,<br>In this divertin' slab uv 'istory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It ain't no soft romance, with pale pink bows,<br>This common little tale I 'ave to tell<br>Concernin' common on folk, an' wot befell<br>When me an' my ole parson cobber goes<br>An' does our bit in lookin' after Rose.<br>The Church admits I done my part reel well;<br>An' there won't be no need to ring a bell<br>Or call the cops in when the langwidge flows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So, 'ere's a go. If my remarks is plain<br>An' short uv frills, they soots me tale; an' so,<br>I 'opes the rood boorjosie will refrain<br>Frum vulger chuckin'-orf; fer well I know<br>Ladies an' gentlemen uv Spadgers Lane<br>Won't fail to un'erstand. So, 'ere's a go.</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=357630" data-title="Introduction: Rose of Spadgers de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="I've crawled; I've eaten dirt; I've lied a treat;
I've dodged the cops an' led a double life;
I've readied up wild tales to tell me wife,
W'ich afterwards I've 'ad to take an' eat
Red raw. Aw, I been goin' it to beat
A big massed band: mixin' with..."></div>
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