An' since I've known 'er some'ow I 'ave grown
To see in 'er, an' all the grief she's bore,
A million brave ole mothers 'oo 'ave known
Deep sorrer since them days before the war.
"Before the war," she sez. "Yeh mind our Syd?
Poor lad. . . . But then, yeh never met young Jim—
'Im 'oo was charged with things 'e never did.
Ah, both uv you'd 'ave been reel chums with 'im.
'Igh-spirited 'e was, a perfect limb.
It's six long years now since 'e went away—
Ay, drove away." 'Er poor ole eyes git dim.
"That was," she sighs, "that was me blackest day.
"Me blackest day! Wot am I sayin' now?
There was the day the parson come to tell
The news about our Syd. . . . An', yet, some'ow . . . .
My little Jim !" She pauses for a spell. . . .
"Your 'olly'ocks is doin' reely well,"
She sez, an' battles 'ard to brighten up.
"An' them there pinks uv yours, 'ow sweet they smell.
An'—Thanks! I think I will 'ave one more cup."
As fur as I can get the strength uv it,
Them Floods 'ave 'ad a reel tough row to hoe.
First off, young Jim, 'oo plays it 'igh a bit,
Narks the ole man a treat, an' slings the show.
