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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
Well, now, this Tommy, after a bit,
Got to be a terr'ble favourite
With the misthress there, that was one of the sweetest
Women you ever, about the completest
Every way a woman should be—
I don't think a better woman could be—
For patience, for gentleness, and that—
She was one of the Shimmins of Ballarat—
They were all of them nice—aw, a capital strain!
But the nicest of all was Missis Cain.
And she took to Tommy very much,
For, you know, there wasn' the smallest touch
Of divilment in Tommy—no!
But all the other road, and so
The woman was feelin' quite at her aise with him,
She said he had such studdy ways with him.
For there's some of these country lads is rough,
And cheeky, and impudent enough;
And carryin' on with the gels, and slinkin'
Off to the public-house, and drinkin',
And stayin' out without any leave,
And not the smallest notion how to behave.
Got to be a terr'ble favourite
With the misthress there, that was one of the sweetest
Women you ever, about the completest
Every way a woman should be—
I don't think a better woman could be—
For patience, for gentleness, and that—
She was one of the Shimmins of Ballarat—
They were all of them nice—aw, a capital strain!
But the nicest of all was Missis Cain.
And she took to Tommy very much,
For, you know, there wasn' the smallest touch
Of divilment in Tommy—no!
But all the other road, and so
The woman was feelin' quite at her aise with him,
She said he had such studdy ways with him.
For there's some of these country lads is rough,
And cheeky, and impudent enough;
And carryin' on with the gels, and slinkin'
257
And stayin' out without any leave,
And not the smallest notion how to behave.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |