A Post-Cup Tale by C.J. Dennis

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I'ad the money in me 'and!
Fair dinkum!  Right there, by the stand.
    I tole me wife at breakfus' time,
    Straight out: "Trivalve," I sez "is prime.
Trivalve," I sez.  An', all the week,
I swear ther's no one 'eard me speak
    Another 'orse's name.  Why, look,
    I 'ad the oil straight from a Book
On Sund'y at me cousin's place
When we was torkin' of the race.
    "Trivalve," 'e sez.  "'Is chance is grand."
    I 'ad the money in me 'and!

Fair in me 'and I 'ad the dough!
An' then a man 'as got to go --
    Wot?  Tough?  Look, if I 'adn't met
    Jim Smith (I ain't forgave 'im yet)
'E takes an' grabs me be the coat.
"Trivalve?" 'e sez.  "Ar, turn it up!
'Ow could 'e win a flamin'Cup?"
    Of course, I thort 'e muster knoo.
    'Im livin' near a trainer, too.

Right 'ere, like that, fair in me fist
I 'ad the notes!  An' then I missed --
    Missed like a mug fair on the knock
Becos 'is maggin' done me block.
"That airy goat?" 'e sez.  "E's crook!"
Fair knocked me back, 'e did.  An' look,
    I 'ad the money in me 'and!
    Fair in me paw!  An', un'erstand,
Sixes at least I coulder got --
Thirty to five, an' made a pot.
Today I mighter been reel rich --
    Rollin' in dough!  Instid o' which,
'Ere's me - Aw!  Don't it beat the band?
    Put me clean off, that's wot 'e did ...
    Say, could yeh len' us 'arf a quid?

First published in The Herald, 2 November 1927;
and later in
More than a Sentimental Bloke, 1990.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on November 2, 2013 7:05 AM.

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