Logic and Spotted Dog
I am marri'd to a woman; which is nacheral an' right.
I sez that over to meself, for safety, day an' night.
Most time I sez it fond an' proud wiv gladness in me mind;
But sometimes philosophic-like an' wot yeh'd call resigned.
"An axe as sharp as that," she sez, "It reely isn't fair!
You left it there!
"The way you pet that axe," she sez, "the way it's ground an' filed,
The way you fairly fondle it, you'd think it wus a child!
An' when I pick the ole thing up to cut a bit uv string
Yeh rave an' shout..." "Wait on," I sez. "But ir'n's a different thing.
An' you wus choppin' fencin' wire!" She sez, "Well, I don't care.
You left it there!"
I 'elps meself to spotted dog, an' chews, an' thinks a while.
"I'm reely sorry," I begins. Then, as I seen 'er smile,
I plays 'er fer the fun uv it, an' sex, "But, all the same,
If he gits foolin' wiv that axe 'e's got 'imself to blame."
'Er eyes spark up. "A child like that! Now, Bill, it isn't fair!
You left it there!"
