Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/39

'E never spouted no 'igh-soundin' stuff
  About stern jooty an' 'is country's call;
But, in 'is way, 'e 'eard it right enough
  A-callin' like the shout uv "On the Ball!"
Wot time the footer brings the clicks great joy.
An' Saints er Carlton roughs it up wiv 'Roy.

The call wot came to cave-men in the days
  When rocks wus stylish in the scrappin' line;
The call wot knights 'eard in the minstrel's lays,
  That sent 'em in tin soots to Palerstine;
The call wot draws all fighters to the fray
It come to Mick, an' Mick 'e must obey.

The Call uv Stoush! ... It's older than the 'ills.
  Lovin' an' fightin'—there's no more to tell
Concernin' men. An' when that feelin' thrills
  The blood uv them 'oo's fathers mixed it well.
They 'ave to 'eed it—bein' 'ow they're built—
As traders 'ave to 'eed the clink uv gilt.
 
An' them whose gilt 'as stuffed 'em stiff wiv pride
  An' 'aughty scorn uv blokes like Ginger Mick—
I sez to them, put sich crook thorts aside.
  An' don't lay on the patronage too thick.
Orl men is brothers when it comes to lash
An' 'aughty scorn an' Culcher does their dash.