IV. DIGGER SMITH

Digger Smith

CALLS me Digger; that's 'ow 'e begins.
'E sez 'e's only 'arf a man; an' grins.

Judged be 'is nerve, I'd say 'e was worth two

Uv me an' you.
Then 'e digs 'arf a fag out uv 'is vest,
Borrers me matches, an' I gives 'im best.

The first I 'eard about it Poole told me.
"There is a bloke called Smith at Flood's," sez 'e;

Come there this mornin', sez 'e's come to stay,

An' won't go 'way.
Sez 'e was sent there be a pal named Flood;
An' talks uv contracts sealed with Flanders mud.

"No matter wot they say, 'e only grins,"
Sez Poole. "'E's rather wobbly on 'is pins.

Seems like a soldier bloke. An' Peter Begg

'E sez one leg
Works be machinery, but I dunno.
I only know 'e's there an' 'e won't go.

"'E grins," sez Poole, "at ev'rything they say.
Dad Flood 'as nearly 'ad a fit to-day.

'E's cursed, an' ordered 'im clean off the place;

But this cove's face
Jist goes on grinnin', an' 'e sez, quite carm,
'E's come to do a bit around the farm."

The tale don't sound too good to me at all.
"If 'e's a crook," I sez, "'e wants a fall.

Maybe 'e's dilly. I'll go down an' see.

'E'll grin at me
When I 'ave done, if 'e needs dealin' with."
So I goes down to interview this Smith.

'E 'ad a fork out in the tater patch.
Sez 'e, "Why 'ello, Digger. Got a match?"

"Digger?" I sez. "Well, you ain't digger 'ere.

You better clear.
You ought to know that you can't dig them spuds.
They don't belong to you; they're ole Dad Flood's."

"Can't I?" 'e grins. "I'll do the best I can,
Considerin' I'm only 'arf a man.

Give us a light. I can't get none from Flood,

An' mine is dud."
I parts; an' 'e stands grinnin' at me still;
An' then 'e sez, "'Ave yeh fergot me, Bill?"

I looks, an' seen a tough bloke, short an' thin.
Then, Lord! I recomembers that ole grin.

"It's little Smith!" I 'owls, "uv Collin'wood.

Lad, this is good!
Last time I seen yeh, you an' Ginger Mick
Was 'owling rags, out on yer final kick."

"Yer on to it," 'e sez. "Nex' day we sailed.
Now 'arf uv me's back 'ome, an' 'arf they nailed.

An' Mick. . . . Ar, well, Fritz took me down a peg."

'E waves 'is leg.
"It ain't too bad," 'e sez, with 'is ole smile;
"But when I starts to dig it cramps me style.

"But I ain't grouchin'. It was worth the fun.
We 'ad some picnic stoushin' Brother 'Un--

The only fight I've 'ad that some John 'Op

Don't come an' stop.
They pulled me leg a treat, but, all the same,
There's nothin' over 'ere to beat the game.

"An' now," 'e sez, "I'm 'ere to do a job
I promised, if it was me luck to lob

Back 'ome before me mate," 'e sez, an' then,

'E grins again.
"As clear as mud," I sez. "But I can't work
Me brains to 'old yer pace. Say, wot's the lurk?"

So then 'e puts me wise. It seems that 'im
An' this 'ere Flood--I tips it must be Jim--

Was cobbers up in France, an' things occurred.

(I got 'is word
Things did occur up there). But, anyway,
Seems Flood done somethin' good for 'im one day.

Then Smith 'e promised if 'e came back 'ome
Before 'is cobber o'er the flamin' foam,

'E'd see the ole folks 'ere, an' 'e agreed,

If there was need,
'E'd stay an' do a bit around the farm
So long as 'e 'ad one sound, dinkum arm.

"So, 'ere I am," 'e sez, an' grins again.
"A promise is a promise 'mong us men."

Sez I, "You come along up to the 'ouse.

Ole Dad won't rouse
When once 'e's got yer strength, an' as for Mar,
She'll kiss yeh when she finds out 'oo yeh are."

So we goes up, an' finds 'em both fair dazed
About this little Smith; they think 'e's crazed.

I tells the tale in words they understand;

Then it was grand
To see Dad grab Smith's 'and an' pump it good,
An' Mar, she kissed 'im, like I said she would.

Mar sez 'e must be starved, an' right away
The kettle's on, she's busy with a tray.

An', when I left, this Digger Smith 'e looked

Like 'e was booked
For keeps, with tea an' bread an' beef inside.
"Our little Willie's 'ome," 'e grins, "an' dried."

V. WEST

West

'VE seen so much uv dirt an' grime

I'm mad to 'ave things clean.

I've seen so much uv death," 'e said--
"So many cobbers lyin' dead--

You won't know wot I mean;

But, lad, I've 'ad so much uv strife
I want things straightened in my life.

"I've seen so much uv 'ate," 'e said--

"Mad 'ate an' silly rage--

I'm yearnin' for clear thoughts," said 'e.
"Kindness an' love seem good to me.

I want a new, white page

To start all over, clean an' good,
An' live me life as reel men should."

We're sittin' talkin' by the fence,

The sun's jist goin' down,

Paintin' the sky all gold an' pink.
Said 'e, "When it's like that, I think--"

An' then 'e stops to frown.

Said 'e, "I think, when it's jist so,
Uv . . . . God or somethin': I dunno.

"I ain't seen much uv God," said 'e;

"Not 'ere nor Over There;

But, partly wot I've seen an' read,
An' partly wot the padre said,

It gits me when I stare

Out West when it's like that is now.
There must be somethin' else--some'ow.

"I've thought a lot," said Digger Smith--

"Out There I thought a lot.

I thought uv death, an' all the rest,
An' uv me mates, good mates gone West;

An' it ain't much I've got;

But things get movin' in me 'ead
When I look over there," 'e said.

'E's got me beat, 'as little Smith.

I knoo 'im years ago

I knoo 'im as a reel tough boy
'Oo roughed it up with 'oly joy;

But now, well, I dunno.

An' when I ask Mar Flood she sighs--
An' sez 'e's got the Anzac eyes.

She sez 'e's got them soldier's eyes

That makes 'er own eyes wet.

An' we must give 'im wholesome food
An' lead 'is thoughts to somethin' good

An' never let 'im fret.

But 'e ain't frettin', seems to me;
More--puzzled, fur as I can see.

The clouds above the hills was tore

Apart, until, some'ow,

It seemed like some big, shinin' gate.
Said 'e, "Why, lad, I tell yeh straight,

I feel like startin' now,

An' walkin' on, an' on, an' thro',
Dead game an'--Ain't it so to you?

"I've seen enough uv pain," 'e said,

"An' cursin', killin' 'ordes.

I ain't the man to smooge with God
To get to 'Eaven on the nod,

Or 'owl 'ymns for rewards.

But this believin'? Why--Oh, 'Struth
This never 'it me in me youth.

"They talk uv love 'twixt men," said 'e.

"That sounds dead crook to you.

But lately I 'ave come to see." . . .
"'Old on," I said; "it seems to me

There's love uv women too.

An' you?" 'E turns away 'is 'ead.
"I'm only 'arf a man," 'e said.

"I've seen so much uv death," said 'e,

"Me mind is in a whirl.

I've 'ad so many thoughts uv late." . . .
Said I, "Now, tell me, tell me straight;

Own up; ain't there a girl?"

Said 'e, "I've done the best I can.
Wot does she want with 'arf a man?"

It weren't no use. 'E wouldn't talk

Uv nothin' but that sky.

Said 'e, "Now, dinkum, talkin' square,
When you git gazin' over there

Don't you 'arf want to cry?

I wouldn't be su'prised to see
An angel comin' out," said 'e.

"Gone West!" said Digger Smith. "Ah, lad,

I've seen 'em goin' West,

An' often wonder, when I look,
If they 'ave 'ad it dealt 'em crook,

Or if they've got the rest

They earned twice over by the spell
They spent down in that dinkum 'Ell."

The gold was creepin' up, the sun

Was 'arf be'ind the range.

It don't seem strange a man should cry
To see that glory in the sky

To me it don't seem strange.

"Digger!" said 'e. "Look at it now!
There must be somethin' else--some'ow."

VI. OVER THE FENCE

Over the Fence

AINT my idea uv argument to call a man a fool,
An' I ain't lookin' round for bricks to 'eave at ole man Poole;

But when 'e gets disputin' 'e's inclined to lose 'is 'ead.

It ain't so much 'is choice uv words as 'ow the words is said.

'E's sich a coot for takin' sides, as I sez to Doreen.
Sez she, "'Ow can 'e, by 'imself ?"Wotever that may mean.

My wife sez little things sometimes that nearly git me riled.

I knoo she meant more than she said be that soft way she smiled.

To-day, when I was 'arrowin', Poole comes down to the fence
To get the loan uv my long spade; an' uses that pretence

To 'ave a bit uv friendly talk, an' one word leads to more,

As is the way with ole man Poole, as I've remarked before.

The spade reminds 'im 'ow 'e done some diggin' in 'is day,
An' diggin' brings the talk to earth, an' earth leads on to clay,

Then clay quite natural reminds a thinkin' bloke uv bricks,

An' mortar brings up mud, an' then, uv course, it's politics.

Now, Poole sticks be 'is Party, an' I don't deny 'is right;
But when 'e starts abusin' mine 'e's lookin' for a fight.

So I delivers good 'ome truths about 'is crowd; then Poole

Wags 'is ole beard across the fence an' tells me I'm a fool.

Now, that's the dizzy limit; so I lays aside the reins,
An' starts to prove 'e's storin' mud where most blokes keeps their brains.

'E decorates 'is answers, an' we're goin' it ding-dong,

When this returned bloke, Digger Smith, comes sauntering along.

Poole's gripped the fence as though 'e means to tear the rails in two,
An' eyes my waggin' finger like 'e wants to 'ave a chew.

Then Digger Smith 'e grins at Poole, an' then 'e looks at me,

An' sez, quite soft an' friendly-like, "Winnin' the war?" sez 'e.

Now, Poole deserves it, an' I'm pleased the lad give 'im that jolt.
'E goes fair mad in argument when once 'e gets a holt.

"Yeh make me sad," sez Digger Smith; "the both uv you," sez 'e.

"The both uv us! Gawstruth!" sez I. "You ain't includin' me?"

"Well, it takes two to make a row," sez little Digger Smith.
"A bloke can't argue 'less 'e 'as a bloke to argue with.

I've come 'ome from a dinkum scrap to find this land uv light

Is chasin' its own tail around an' callin' it a fight.

"We've seen a thing or two, us blokes 'oo've fought on many fronts;
An' we've 'ad time to think a bit between the fightin' stunts.

We've seen big things, an' thought big things, an' all the

silly fuss,

That used to get us rattled once, seems very small to us.

"An' when a bloke's fought for a land an' gets laid on the shelf
It pains 'im to come 'ome an' find it scrappin' with itself;

An' scrappin' all for nothin', or for things that look so

small--

To us, 'oo've been in bigger things, they don't seem reel at all.

"P'r'aps we 'ave 'ad some skite knocked out, an' p'r'aps we see more clear,
But seems to us there's plenty cleanin'-up to do round 'ere.

We've learnt a little thing or two, an' we 'ave unlearnt 'eaps,

An' silly partisans, with us, is counted out for keeps.

"This takin' sides jist for the sake uv takin' sides--Aw, 'Struth!
I used to do them things one time, back in me foolish youth.

Out There, when I remembered things, I've kicked meself reel good.

In football days I barracked once red 'ot for Collin'wood.

"I didn't want to see a game, nor see no justice done.
It never mattered wot occurred as long as my side won.

The other side was narks an' cows an' rotters to a man;

But mine was all reel bonzer chaps. I was a partisan.

"It might sound like swelled-'ead," sez Smith. "But show me, if yeh can." . . .
"'Old 'ard," sez Poole. "Jist tell me this: wot is a partisan?"

Then Digger Smith starts to ixplain; Poole interrupts straight out;

An' I wades in to give my views, an' 'as to nearly shout.

We battles on for one good hour. My team sleeps where it stands;
An' Poole 'as tossed the spade away to talk with both 'is 'ands;

An' Smith 'as dropped the maul 'e 'ad. Then I looks round to see

Doreen quite close. She smiles at us. "Winnin' the war?" sez she.

VII. A DIGGER'S TALE

A Digger's Tale

Y oath!' the Duchess sez. `You'd not ixpect

Sich things as that. Yeh don't mean kangaroos?

Go hon!' she sez, or words to that effect--

(It's 'ard to imitate the speech they use)

I tells 'er, 'Straight; I drives 'em four-in-'and
'Ome in my land.'

"You 'ear a lot," sez little Digger Smith,

"About 'ow English swells is so stand-off.

Don't yeh believe it; it's a silly myth.

I've been reel cobbers with the British toff

While I'm on leaf; for Blighty liked our crowd,
An' done us proud.

"Us Aussies was the goods in London town

When I was there. If they jist twigged yer 'at

The Dooks would ask yeh could yeh keep one down,

An' Earls would 'ang out `Welcome' on the mat,

An' sling yeh invites to their stately 'alls
For fancy balls.

"This Duchess--I ain't quite sure uv 'er rank;

She might uv been a Peeress. I dunno.

I meets 'er 'usband first. 'E owns a bank,

I 'eard, an' 'arf a dozen mints or so.

A dinkum toff. 'E sez, `Come 'ome with me
An' 'ave some tea.'

"That's 'ow I met this Duchess Wot's-'er-name--

Or Countess--never mind 'er moniker;

I ain't no 'and at this 'ere title game--

An' right away, I was reel pals with 'er.

`Now, tell me all about yer 'ome,' sez she,
An' smiles at me.

"That knocks me out. I know it ain't no good

Paintin' word-picters uv the things I done

Out 'ome 'ere, barrackin' for Collin'wood,

Or puntin' on the flat at Flemin'ton.

I know this Baroness uv Wot-yeh-call
Wants somethin' tall.

"I thinks reel 'ard; an' then I lets it go.

I tells 'er, out at Richmond, on me Run--

A little place uv ten square mile or so--

I'm breedin' boomerangs; which is reel fun,

When I ain't troubled by the wild Jonops
That eats me crops.

"I talks about the wondrous Boshter Bird

That builds 'er nest up in the Cobber Tree,

An' 'atches out 'er young on May the third,

Stric' to the minute, jist at 'arf pas' three.

'Er eyes get big. She sez, `Can it be true?'
'Er eyes was blue.

"An' then I speaks uv sport, an' tells 'er 'ow

In 'untin' our wild Wowsers we imploy

Large packs uv Barrackers, an' 'ow their row

Wakes echoes in the forests uv Fitzroy,

Where lurks the deadly Shicker Snake 'oo's breath
Is certain death.


"I'm goin' on to talk uv kangaroos,

An' 'ow I used to drive 'em four-in-'and.

`Wot?' sez the Marchioness. `Them things in Zoos

That 'ops about? I've seen 'em in the Strand

In double 'arness; but I ain't seen four.
Tell me some more.'

"I baulks a bit at that; an' she sez, `Well,

There ain't no cause at all for you to feel

Modest about the things you 'ave to tell;

An' wot yeh say sounds wonderfully reel.

Your talk'--an' 'ere I seen 'er eyelids flick--
`Makes me 'omesick.

"'I reckerlect,' she sez--`Now, let me see--

In Gippsland, long ago, when I was young,

I 'ad a little pet Corroboree,'

(I sits up in me chair like I was stung.)

`On its 'ind legs,' she sez, `it used to stand.
Fed from me 'and.'

"Uv course, I threw me alley in right there.

This Princess was a dinkum Aussie girl.

I can't do nothin' else but sit an' stare,

Thinkin' so rapid that me 'air roots curl.

But 'er? She sez, 'I ain't 'eard talk so good
Since my child'ood.

"`I wish,' sez she, `I could be back again

Beneath the wattle an' that great blue sky.

It's like a breath uv 'ome to meet you men.

You've done reel well,' she sez. `Don't you be shy.

When yer in Blighty once again,' sez she,
`Come an' see me.'

"I don't see 'er no more; 'cos I stopped one.

But, 'fore I sails, I gits a billy doo

Which sez, `Give my love to the dear ole Sun,

An' take an exile's blessin' 'ome with you.

An' if you 'ave some boomerangs to spare,
Save me a pair.

"'I'd like to see 'em play about,' she wrote,

`Out on me lawn, an' stroke their pretty fur.

God bless yeh, boy.' An' then she ends 'er note,

'Yer dinkum cobber,' an' 'er moniker.

A sport? You bet! She's marri'd to an Earl--
An Aussie girl."