Possum
Then, cooin' to me, woman-like, she pilots me inside.
It stabs me every step I takes; I thort I would 'a' died.
"There now," she sez. "Men can't stand pain, it's alwus understood."
"Stand pain?" I 'owls. Then, Jumping Jakes! It gits me reely good!
So I gets to bed in sections, fer it give me beans to bend,
An' shuts me eyes, an' groans again, an' jist waits fer the end.
"Now, you lie still," she orders me, "until I think wot's best.
Per'aps 'ot bran, or poultices. You just lie still, an' rest."
Rest? 'Oly Gosh! I clinched me teeth, an' clawed the bloomin' bunk;
Fer a red-'ot poker jabbed me ev'ry time I much as wunk.
I couldn't corf, I couldn't move, I couldn't git me breath.
"Look after Bill," I tells Doreen. "I feels that... this is... death."
"Death, fiddlesticks," she laughs at me. "You jist turn over now."
I 'owls, "'Ere! Don't you touch me, or there'll be a blazin' row!
