Reuben and Other Poems/Outside o' the Mail into Mennen
OUTSIDE O’ THE MAIL INTO MENNEN
I
We were late, sure enough, an’ the wind coming rough,
An’ the sky of a dirtyish grey.
So we mended our pace, for ’tis always a race
To find our old bodies a sortable place
On the mail, of a marketing day.
But, well—there it stood at the Red Lion door,
With the baggage atop an’ the horses afore,
An’ so many babies an’ mothers inside
That, “Peter!” says I, “we shall have a poor ride.”
But Peter says, “Well, if it do come a pelt,
’Twon’t be the first touch o’ weather we've felt.
An’ not being sugar nor salt, we won’t melt,
Outside o’ the mail into Mennen.”
II
Howsumever, come round to the front, why we found
That even the box it was full.
But they all holler’d loud: “’Tis a bit of a crowd,
But we've room for you, Missus—and only too proud”—
“Heave her up, Pete, and we'll pull.”
There was some o’ me up, there was some o’ me down—
A bash to my bonnet, a tear in my gown.
But what of the climb when you're up to the top?
The rougher you've travelled, the sweeter you stop.
Then they hoisted an’ shoved my old man to a seat,
An’ “Gee-up!” cries Ben. An’ ’twas truly a treat
To get such a view o’ the shops an’ the street,
Outside o’ the mail into Mennen.
III
’Twas a-growing so dark, I’d a puzzle to mark
How many was taking the air.
There was Benny, an’ Willy the shopman, an’ Zack
(That’s three) on the front seat; an’ four on the back—
Schoolmaster, wi’ newly-cut hair,
Grace Annie, the post-girl, an’ next to her me,
An’ Pete, all a-tuck’d in as tight as could be.
We'd an apron o’ sacking, an’ straw underfoot,
Our marketing safely bestow’d in the boot,
And only ten mile and a trifle to go.
Says Benny: “We’re in for a bit of a blow.”
“Well, if it do rain, a good job it don’t snow,”
Says Gracey, “a-riding to Mennen.”
IV
“Here’s what’ll save us the price of a shave,”
Cries Ben, as we got to the moor.
’Twas the picture o’ doom, full o’ nothing but gloom.
An’ just as he spoke, with a shriek and a boom,
Down came the storm, to be sure!
Like hedgehogs we doubled up innards, an’ yet
Our cheeks and our chins were a-running wi’ wet,
An’ we got such a dose o’ the vicious east wind
That I’m sure I was certain my nose ’ud be skinn’d.
But the horses, poor things! They were more on my mind.
They’d to strain onward, stormbeaten an’ blind,
While we’d to do nothing but sit up behind
Like kings, an’ be carried to Mennen.
V
By-an’-by each got a ha’porth o’ speech.
Says Peter: “No danger o’ dust!”
“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!
VII
’Twas at Dumbledown Hill that Nell Antony’s Will,
Oh dear! he did give me a start!
For, to lighten the load, all the men took the road,
An’ Zack, he jump’d down ere the horses was slow’d,
An’ Willy (bit jealous, poor heart!),
He’d be as clever—but there! he did drop
Right in a puddle, pop-wallopy-plop!
As his neck wasn’t broke, we could relish the joke,
An’ we just sat an’ laugh’d, till the schoolmaster spoke:
“Good thing that the ground didn’t give, Willy lad!
You’d have frightened New Zealand by now, if it had.”
“Give?. Give him the want of a wash pretty bad,”
Says Benny— Won’t know him at Mennen.”
VIII
“Oh! aren’t we unkind! Poor Will, don’t you mind!
Have a bull’s eye to warm ’ee,” cries Grace.
An’ Willy, poor chil’, he looks up with a smile,
Like saying the top made the bottom worth while,
An’ he had got a fancy work face!
But wet! And as chattery-cold as you’d ask,
An’ Peter, he whispers to get out the flask.
Zack is teetotal, an’ Schoolmaster too,
So the three of ’em shared it an’ made it just do.
All of us saying ’twould only be fair,
Seeing what water he’d had and to spare,
As Willy should have a drop over his share
To balance him, riding to Mennen.
IX
Like little white ghostes, the lonely mile postes
Lagg’d by, and the horses went weary.
So we help’d ’em along wi’ a bit of a song
That we all of us knew, only some knew it wrong,
But still it was wonderful cheery.
An’ just at the end, where the lady says “Yes,”
(An’ Master bent over, bit tender, I guess),
“Ow!” cries Grace Annie, the rain off his hat
Clean down her neck. We did laugh over that!
“But, Gracey, ’tis lucky,” says I in her ear,
“That love can’t be quenchéd wi’ waters, my dear.”
“O, ’tis more weatherproof than my jacket, I fear,”
Says she, “but we’ll soon be in Mennen.”
X
As she spoke, in upon her wet dimples there shone
The light o’ the lamp on the Head;
Like a welcome it beam’d, an’ the sight of it seem’d
To hearten the horses—the sides of ’em steam’d
As on thro’ the weather we sped.
Here and there stopping at cottage or farm
Unloading—an’ didn’t the suppers smell warm!
An’ the light gushing out o’ the doorways like gold,
An’ we waiting out there, so hungry an’ cold!
“But I reckon our homes ’ll be snugger,” says Peter,
“Our fires ’ll be warmer, our food ’ll be sweeter.
Nothing like Want to make Having completer.”
“Gee-up,” says Benny. “There’s Mennen.”
XI
Signal house passed—Mennen at last!
“Triumph’s” the ending o’ “Try.”
“Well, and now the trip’s done, I’m half sorry for one;
“Poor weather,” says Zacky, “but pretty fair fun.”
An’ Willy says bravely! “Ay! ay!”
Master, he murmurs: “I’ve been pretty cosy”—
Gracey laughs out, an’ I’ll warrant was rosy.
“Well, grumbles ’ll keep—may as well laugh as weep,”
Says I. “’Tis more handsome an’ equally cheap!”
Benny comes round for to help me alight,
An’ says he: “Guess the weather ’ud always be right
If you had the right folks—an’ I’ve had ’em to-night
Outside o’ the mail into Mennen.”