OUTSIDE O’ THE MAIL INTO MENNEN
“This rain, one ’ud think, wants to cure us o’ drink,”
Says Ben, “but they tell me ’tis wicked to wink,
And wink i’ such weather you must.”
Grace Annie said nothing, unusual for her,
But Willie’d a-got some cold porridge to stir:
“No prate o’ your fine foreign parts any more—
You're a-goin’ to be drown’d i’ fresh water ashore.”
“Got the blues, matey? Don’t let ’em attack ’ee.
Why, don’t ’ee know how to save me?” says Zacky.
“You plug up my mug wi’ a bit o’ your baccy—
I’ll do the uncorking at Mennen.”
VI
We'd to shelter a bit for the lamps to be lit
At the corner o’ Callaway Wood—
An’ the counsel an’ clearing, the comfort an’ cheering
O’ one bit o’ light i’ the darkness appearing
I never before understood.
Next minute, I found, though, a different match
Had a-kindled itself wi’ a deal o’ dispatch.
For, ’twixt Gracey an’ me did I see—a man’s arm!
Not Peter’s. But Gracey she whispers, “No harm.”
An’ she nestles away—nor I wasn’t afraid:
He’s a newcomer, but she’s a good maid.
Only, the slyboots! to think we’d convey’d
Love in the mail-cart to Mennen!
81
