# The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke/VIII. Mar

* Mar
* "R pore dear Par," she sez, "'e kept a store."
* An' then she weeps an' stares 'ard at the floor.
* "Twas thro' 'is death," she sez, "we wus rejuiced
* To this," she sez… An' then she weeps some more.
* "'Er Par," she sez, "me poor late 'usband, kept
* An 'ay an' corn store. 'E'd no faults ixcept
* 'Im fallin' 'eavy orf a load o' charf
* W'ich—killed 'im—on the——" 'Struth! But 'ow she wept.
* She blows 'er nose an' sniffs. "'E would 'a' made,"
* She sez, "A lot uv money in the trade.
* But, 'im took orf so sudden-like, we found
* 'E 'adn't kept 'is life insurince paid.
* "To think," she sez, "a child o' mine should be
* Rejuiced to workin' in a factory!
* If 'er pore Par 'e 'adn't died," she sobs…
* I sez, "It wus a bit o' luck fer me."
* ​Then I gits red as 'ell, "That is—I mean,"
* I sez, "I might 'a' never met Doreen
* If 'e 'ad not"—an' 'ere I lose me block—
* "I 'ope," I sez, "'E snuffed it quick and clean."
* An' that wus 'ow I made me first deboo.
* I'd dodged it cunnin' fer a month or two.
* Doreen she sez, " You'll 'ave to meet my Mar,
* Some day," she sez. An' so I seen it thro'.
* I'd pictered some stern female in a cap
* Wot puts the fear o' Gawd into a chap.
* An' 'ere she wus, aweepin' in 'er tea
* An' drippin' moistcher like a leeky tap.
* Two dilly sort o' dawgs made out o' delf
* Stares 'ard at me frum orf the mantelshelf.
* I seemed to symperthise wiv them there pups;
* I felt so stiff an' brittle-like meself.
* Clobber? Me trosso, 'ead to foot, wus noo—
* Got up regardless, fer this interview.
* Stiff shirt, a Yankee soot split up the back,
* A tie wiv yeller spots an' stripes o' blue.
* ​Me cuffs kep' playin' wiv me nervis fears,
* Me patent leathers nearly brought the tears,
* An' there I sits wiv, "Yes, mum. Thanks. Indeed?"
* Me stand-up collar sorin' orf me ears.
* "Life's 'ard," she sez, an' then she brightens up.
* "Still, we 'ave alwus 'ad our bite and sup.
* Doreen's been sich a help; she 'as indeed.
* Some more tea, Willy? 'Ave another cup."
* Willy! O 'ell! 'Ere wus a flamin' pill!
* A moniker that alwus makes me ill.
* "If it's the same to you, mum," I replies,
* "I answer quicker to the name o' Bill."
* Up goes 'er 'ands an' eyes, "That vulgar name!
* No, Willy, but it isn't all the same,
* My fucher son must be respectable."
* "Orright," I sez, "I s'pose it's in the game."
* "Me fucher son," she sez, "right on frum this
* Must not take anythink I say amiss.
* I know me jooty be me son-in-lor;
* So, Willy, come an' give yer Mar a kiss."
* ​I done it. Tho' I dunno 'ow I did.
* "Dear boy," she sez, "to do as you are bid.
* Be kind to 'er," she sobs, "my little girl!"
* An' then I kiss Doreen. Sez she "Ah Kid!"
* Doreen! Ar 'ow 'er pretty eyes did shine.
* No sight on earth or 'Eaven's 'arf so fine,
* An' as they looked at me she seemed to say
* "I'm proud of 'im, I am, an' 'e is mine."
* There wus a sort o' glimmer in 'er eye,
* An' 'appy, nervis look, 'arf proud, 'arf shy;
* I seen 'er in me mind be'ind the cups
* In our own little kipsie, by an' by.
* An' then when Mar-in-lor an' me began
* To tork of 'ouse'old things an' scheme an' plan,
* A sudden thort fair jolts me where I live:
* "These is my wimmin folk ! An' I'm a man!"
* It's wot they calls responsibility.
* All of a 'cap that feelin' come to me;
* An' somew'ere in me 'ead I seemed to feel
* A sneakin' sort o' wish that I wus free.
* ​'Ere's me 'oo never took no 'eed o' life,
* Investin' in a mar-in-lor an' wife:
* Someone to battle fer besides meself,
* Somethink to love an' shield frum care an' strife.
* It makes yeh solim when yeh come to think
* Wot love and marridge means. Ar, strike me pink!
* It ain't all sighs and kisses. It's yer life.
* An' ere's me tremblin' on the bloomin' brink.
* "'Er pore dead Par," she sez, an' gulps a sob.
* An' then I tells 'er 'ow I got a job,
* As storeman down at Jones's printin' joint,
* A decent sort o' cop at fifty bob.
* Then things get 'ome-like; an' we torks till late,
* An' tries to tease Doreen to fix the date,
* An' she gits suddin soft and tender-like,
* An' cries a bit, when we parts at the gate.
* An' as I'm moochin' 'omeward frum the car
* A suddin notion stops me wiv a jar—
* Wot if Doreen, I thinks, should grow to be
* A fat ole weepin' willer like 'er Mar!
* ​O, 'Struth! It won't bear thinkin' uv! It's crook
* An' I'm a mean, unfeelin' dawg to look
* At things like that. Doreen's Doreen to me,
* The sweetest peach on w'ich a man wus shook.
* 'Er "pore dear Par"… I s'pose 'e 'ad 'is day.
* An' kissed an' smooged an' loved 'er in 'is way.
* An' wed an' took 'is chances like a man—
* But, Gawd, this splicin' racket ain't all play.
* Love is a gamble, an' there ain't no certs.
* Some day, I s'pose, I'll git wise to the skirts,
* An' learn to take the bitter wiv the sweet…
* But, strike me purple! "Willie!" That's wot 'urts.