# The Songs of a Sentimental Bloke/X. Hitched

* Hitched
* N'—wilt—yeh—take—this—woman—fer—to—be—
* Yer—weddid—wife?"… O, strike me! Will I wot?
* Take 'er? Doreen? 'E stan's there arstin' me!
* As if 'e thort per'aps I'd rather not!
* Take 'er? 'E seemed to think 'er kind wus got
* Like cigarette-cards, fer the arstin'. Still,
* I does me stunt in this 'ere hitchin' rot,
* An' speaks me piece: "Righto!" I sez, "I will."
* "I will," I sez. An' tho' a joyful shout
* Come from me bustin' 'eart—I know it did—
* Me voice got sorter mangled comin' out
* An' makes me whisper like a frightened kid.
* "I will," I squeaks. An' I'd 'a' give a quid
* To 'ad it on the quite, wivout this fuss,
* An' orl the starin' crowd that Mar 'ad bid
* To see this solim hitchin' up uv us.
* ​"Fer—rich-er—er—fer—poor-er." So 'e bleats.
* "In—sick-ness—an'—in—'ealth,"… An' there stands,
* An' dunno 'arf the chatter I repeats,
* Nor wot the 'ell to do wiv my two 'ands.
* But 'e don't 'urry puttin' on our brands—
* This white-'aired pilot-bloke—but gives it lip,
* Dressed in 'is little shirt, wiv frills an' bands.
* "In sick-ness—an'—in—" Ar! I got the pip!
* An' once I missed me turn; an' Ginger Mick,
* 'Oo's my best-man, 'e ups an' beefs it out.
* "I will!" 'e owls; an' fetches me a kick.
* "Your turn to chin!" 'e tips me wiv a shout.
* An' there I'm standin' like a gawky lout.
* (Aw, spare me! But I seemed to be all 'ands!)
* An' wonders wot 'e's goin' crook about,
* Wiv 'arf a mind to crack 'im where 'e stands.
* O, lumme! But ole Ginger was a trick!
* Got up regardless for the solim rite.
* ('E 'awks the bunnies when 'e toils, does Mick)
* An' twice I saw 'im feelin' fer a light
* To start a fag; an' trembles lest 'e might,
* Thro' force o' habit like. 'E's nervis too;
* That's plain, fer orl 'is air o' bluff an' skite;
* An' jist as keen as me to see it thro'.
* ​But 'Struth, the wimmin! 'Ow they love this frill!
* Fer Auntie Liz, an' Mar, o' course, wus there;
* An' Mar's two uncles' wives, an' Cousin Lil,
* An' 'arf a dozen more to grin and stare.
* I couldn't make me 'ands fit anywhere!
* I felt like I wus up afore the Beak!
* But my Doreen she never turns a 'air,
* Nor misses once when it's 'er turn to speak.
* Ar, strike! No more swell marridges fer me!
* It seems a blinded year afore 'e's done.
* We could 'a' fixed it in the registree
* Twice over 'fore this cove 'ad 'arf begun.
* I s'pose the wimmin git some sort o' fun
* Wiv all this guyver, an' 'is nibs's shirt.
* But, seems to me, it takes the bloomin' bun,
* This stylish splicin' uv a bloke an' skirt.
* "To—be—yer—weddid—wife—" Aw, take a pull!
* Wot in the 'ell's 'e think I come there for?
* An' so 'e drawls an' drones until I'm full,
* An' wants to do a duck clean out the door.
* An' yet, fer orl 'is 'igh-falutin' jor,
* Ole Snowy wus a reel good-meanin' bloke.
* If 'twasn't fer the 'oly look 'e wore
* Yeh'd think 'e piled it on jest fer a joke.
* ​An' when at last 'e shuts 'is little book,
* I 'eaves a sigh that nearly bust me vest.
* But 'Eavens ! Now 'ere's muvver goin' crook!
* An' sobbin' awful on me manly chest!
* (I wish she'd give them water-works a rest.)
* "My little girl!" she 'owls. "O, treat 'er well!
* She's young—too young to leave 'er muvver's nest!"
* "Orright, ole chook," I nearly sez. O, 'ell!
* An' then we 'as a beano up at Mar's—
* A slap-up feed, wiv wine an' two big geese.
* Doreen sits next ter me, 'er eyes like stars.
* O, 'ow I wished their blessed yap would cease!
* The Parson-bloke 'e speaks a little piece,
* That makes me blush an' 'ang me silly 'ead.
* 'E sez 'e 'opes our lovin' will increase—
* I likes that pilot fer the things 'e said.
* 'E sez Doreen an' me is in a boat,
* An' sailin' on the matrimonial sea.
* 'E sez as 'ow 'e opes we'll alwus float
* In peace an' joy, frum storm an' danger free.
* Then muvver gits to weepin' in 'er tea;
* An' Auntie Liz sobs like a winded colt;
* An' Cousin Lil comes 'round an' kisses me;
* Until I feel I'll 'ave to do a bolt.
* ​Then Ginger gits end-up an' makes a speech—
* ('E'd 'ad a couple, but 'e wasn't shick).
* "My cobber "ere," 'e sez, "'as copped a peach!
* Uv orl the barrer-load she is the pick!
* I 'opes 'e won't fergit 'is pals too quick
* As wus 'is frien's in olden days, becors,
* I'm trustin', later on," sez Ginger Mick,
* "To celebrate the chris'nin'."… 'Oly wars!
* At last Doreen an' me we gits away,
* An' leaves 'em doin' nothin' to the scran.
* (We're honey-moonin' down beside the Bay.)
* I gives a 'arf a dollar to the man
* Wot drives the cab; an' like two kids we ran
* To ketch the train—Ah, strike! I could 'a' flown!
* We gets the carridge right agin the van.
* She whistles, jolts, an' starts… An' we're alone!
* Doreen an' me! My precious bit o' fluff!
* Me own true wedded wife!… An' we're alone!
* She seems so frail, an' me so big an' rough—
* I dunno wot this feelin' is that's grown
* Inside me 'ere that makes me feel I own
* A thing so tender like I fear to squeeze
* Too 'ard fer fear she'll break… Then, wiv a groan
* I starts to 'ear a coot call, "Tickets, please!"
* ​You could 'a' outed me right on the spot:
* I wus so rattled when that porter spoke.
* Fer, 'Struth! them tickets I 'ad fair forgot!
* But 'e jist laughs, an' takes it fer a joke.
* "We must ixcuse," 'e sez, "new-married folk."
* An' I pays up, an' grins, an' blushes red.…
* It shows 'ow married life improves a bloke:
* If I'd bin single I'd 'a' punched 'is 'ead!