[1]Shingle-Short.
[To “Barney.”]
A [2]wharé on a winter’s evening. Enter Barney, wet and muddy, with a lump of wood. He speaks:
Thank God for this ungodly rain!
Paddock’s a puddle, creek’s in flood,
Road’s like a river mix’d up rich—
Pea-soup, treacle, pudd’n’ an’ sich—
Reggular marmalade o’ mud.
Won’t be no larrikins to-night,
Come peerin’, jeerin’, thro’ the pane!
“More rain, more rest,
Fine weather’s not always best.”
Wait, though—I’ll wedge the door....
That’s right!
(Going to the hearth.)
Anythin’ left o’ you, old log?....
My stars! I am a lucky dog—
Blest if there ain’t a eye o’ bright
Blinkin’ away-O! on its own.
Soon wake you up: I’ve work for you.
Supper? Not much! There’s sweeter meat
A-holdin’ out its hands for heat.
....Where’s bellows, an’ a chip or two?
11
