The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke/XIII. The Kid

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The Kid


MY son!… Them words, jist like a blessed song,  
Is singin' in me 'eart the 'ole day long;
  Over an' over; while I'm scared I'll wake
  Out of a dream, to find it all a fake.


My son! Two little words, that, yesterdee,
Wus jist two simple, senseless words to me;
  An' now—no man, not since the world begun,
  Made any better pray'r than that.… My son!


My son an' bloomin' 'eir… Ours!… 'Ers an' mine!
The finest kid in—Aw, the sun don't shine—
  Ther' ain't no joy fer me beneath the blue
  Unless I'm gazin' lovin' at them two.


A little while ago it was jist "me"—
A lonely, longin' streak o' misery.
  An' then 'twas "'er an' me"—Doreen, my wife!
  An' now it's "'im an' us" an'—sich is life.

But 'Struth! 'E is king-pin! The 'ead serang!
I mustn't tramp about, or talk no slang;
  I mustn't pinch 'is nose, or make a face,
  I mustn't—Strike! 'E seems to own the place!


Cunnin'? Yeh'd think, to look into 'is eyes,
'E knoo the game clean thro'; 'e seems that wise,
  Wiv 'er an' nurse 'e is the leadin' man,
  An' poor ole dad's amongst the "also ran."


"Goog, goo," 'e sez, an' curls 'is cunnin' toes.
Yeh'd be su'prised the 'eaps o' things 'e knows.
  I'll swear 'e tumbles I'm 'is father, too;
  The way 'e squints at me, an' sez, "Goog, goo."


Why! 'smornin', 'ere 'is lordship gits a grip
Fair on me finger—give it quite a nip!
  An' when I tugs, 'e won't let go 'is hold!
  'Angs on like that! An' 'im not three weeks old!


"Goog, goo," 'e sez. I'll swear yeh never did
In all yer natcheril, see sich a kid.
  The cunnin' ways 'e's got; the knowin' stare—
  Ther' ain't a youngster like 'im anywhere!

An', when he gets a little pain inside,
'Is dead straight griffin ain't to be denied.
  I'm sent to talk sweet nuffin's to the fowls;
  While nurse turns 'and-springs ev'ry time 'e 'owls.


But say, I tell yeh straight… I been thro' 'ell!
The things I thort I wouldn't dare to tell
  Lest, in the tellin', I might feel again
  One little part of all that fear an' pain.


It came so sudden that I lorst me block.
First, it was, 'Ell-fer-leather to the doc.,
  'Oo took it all so calm 'e made me curse—
  An' then I sprints like mad to get the nurse.


By gum; that woman! But she beat me flat!
A man's jist putty in a game like that.
  She owned me 'appy 'ome almost before
  She fairly got 'er nose inside the door.


Sweatin' I was; but cold wiv fear inside—
An' then, to think a man could be denied
  'Is wife an' 'ome an' told to fade away
  By jist one fat ole nurse 'oo's in 'is pay!

I wus too weak wiv funk to start an' rouse.
'Struth! Ain't a man the boss in 'is own 'ouse? 
  "You go an' chase yerself!" she tips me straight.
  "Ther's nothin' now fer you to do but—wait."


Wait?… Gawd!… I never knoo wot waitin' meant
In all me life, till that day I was sent
  To loaf around, while there inside—Aw, strike!
  I couldn't tell yeh wot that hour was like!


Three times I comes to listen at the door;
Three times I drag meself away once more;
  'Arf dead wiv fear; 'arf filled wiv tremblin' joy…
  An' then she beckons me, an' sez—"A boy!"


"A boy!" she sez. "An' bofe is doin' well!"
I drops into a chair, an' jist sez—"'Ell!"
  It was a pray'r. I feels bofe crook an' glad…
  An' that's the strength uv bein' made a dad.


I thinks uv church, when in that room I goes,
'Oldin' me breaf an' walkin' on me toes,
  Fer 'arf a mo' I feared me nerve 'ud fail
  To see 'er lying there so still an' pale.

She looks so frail, at first, I dursn't stir.
An' then, I leans acrost an' kisses 'er;
  An' all the room gits sort o' blurred an' dim…
  She smiles, an' moves 'er 'ead. "Dear lad! Kiss 'im."


Near smothered in a ton of snowy clothes,
First thing, I sees a bunch o' stubby toes,
  Bald 'ead, termater face, an' two big eyes.
  "Look, Kid," she smiles at me. "Ain't 'e a size?"


'E didn't seem no sort o' size to me;
But yet, I speak no lie when I agree;
  "'E is," I sez, an' smiles back at Doreen,
  "The biggest nipper fer 'is age I've seen."


She turns away; 'er eyes is brimmin' wet.
"Our little son!" she sez. "Our precious pet!"
  An' then, I seen a great big drop roll down
  An' fall—kersplosh!—fair on 'is nibs's crown.


An' still she smiles. "A lucky sign," she said.
"Somewhere, in some ole book, one time I read,
  'The child will sure be blest all thro' the years
  Who's christened wiv 'is mother's 'appy tears.'"

"Kiss 'im," she sez. I was afraid to take
Too big a mouthful of 'im, fear 'e'd break.
  An' when 'e gits a fair look at me phiz
  'E puckers up 'is nose, an' then—Geewhizz!


'Ow did 'e 'owl! In 'arf a second more
Nurse 'ad me 'ustled clean outside the door.
  Scarce knowin' 'ow, I gits out in the yard,
  An' leans agin the fence an' thinks real 'ard.


A long, long time I looks at my two 'ands.
"They're all I got," I thinks, "they're all that stands
  'Twixt this 'ard world an' them I calls me own.
  An' fer their sakes I'll work 'em to the bone."


Them vows an' things sounds like a lot o' guff.
Maybe it's foolish thinkin' all this stuff—
  Maybe it's childish-like to scheme an' plan;
  But—I dunno—it's that way wiv a man.


I only know that kid belongs to me!
We ain't decided yet wot 'e's to be.
  Doreen, she sez 'e's got a poit's eyes;
  But I ain't got much use fer them soft guys.

I think we ought to make 'im something great—
A bookie, or a champeen 'eavy-weight:
  Some callin' that'll give 'im room to spread.
  A fool could see 'e's got a clever 'ead.


I know 'e's good an' honest; fer 'is eyes
Is jist like 'ers; so big an' lovin'-wise;
  They carries peace an' trust where e'er they goes.
  An', say, the nurse she sez 'e's got my nose!


Dead ring fer me ole conk, she sez it is.
More like a blob of putty on 'is phiz,
  I think. But 'e's a fair 'ard case, all right.
  I'll swear I thort 'e wunk at me larst night!


My wife an' fam'ly! Don't it sound all right!
That's wot I whispers to meself at night.
  Some day, I s'pose, I'll learn to say it loud
  An' careless; kiddin' that I don't feel proud.


My son!… If ther's a Gawd 'Oo's leanin' near
To watch our dilly little lives down 'ere,
  'E smiles, I guess, if 'E's a lovin' one—
  Smiles, friendly-like, to 'ear them words—My son.