| QUOTE (Armeggadon @ Sep 13 2006, 10:48 AM) |
| Wait, what holiday are you talking about? |
| QUOTE |
| Finishin' orf that job o' Smitty's. I give this Beard Watson bloke a mattock an' shovel, an' we get stuck ino ut. She was a bastard down that 'ole. Hot as 'ell. I'm trimmin' the back face an' chuckin' the clay up the top, an' 'e's bullockin' in under the foundations, an' wheelin' 'is lot up the run. Goin' orright, too. Then I 'ear this bloody crash, an 'ere 'e is arse up under the run with the barrer on top of 'im. I thought 'e'd killed 'imself until I 'ear 'im swearin'. Pat thinks he c'n swear, but 'e's only a starter compared ter this bloke. 'E's pickin' 'imself up an' callin' the barrow everything, an' I told 'im, I sez, never 'ang onto a barrer, mate, I sez. Let 'er go if she starts, I sez. Better a boken barrer than a broken neck, I sez. 'E sez--I tried to 'old 'er. I sez, never do that mate, I sez. 'E says I didn' want 'er ter fall where she did. I sez don' matter where she falls mate, let 'er go. 'E says O.K. We was diggin' fer about another 'alf hour, an' 'e sez what are yer gunna 'ave fer lunch Joe? I sez--I got me sandwiches an' a couple o' hunks of cake an' a bit of fruit I sez. 'E sez--yer did 'ave. I sez wodda yer mean I did 'ave, I sez. 'E sez--ut was parked in the shade near the planks there were the barrer got away from me. I sez--yer meanter say ut's stil under that bloody heap? 'E sez--could be. 'Aven't seen ut come out. An' 'e just goes on diggin' as if 'e didn' give a bugger. I shift the clay orf ut, an' y' orter seen ut. Flat as Aunt Maud's chest. Paper all torn an' yer can't tell wot's sandwhiches an' wot's dirt. 'E sez yer c'n 'ave some o' mine, I got plenty 'e sez. I sez yer know wot yer c'n do with yours, dontcher? 'E sez, I don't like ut that way, ut gives me indigestion. I c'n see the funny side of ut now, but gees, I coulda killed 'im at the time. |
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"As I was sayn' this bloke says 'e's a moral. Colossal times on the track an' Darby on'im. Can't go wrong 'e says." "Best hoop in the country, the old Darb." "I seen 'im ride goats. Cooky too.' "Cook don' take on too many goats. Sharp as a tack, Cooky." "Wot odds d'yer get?" "Twos." "Twos? 'E was threes in the paddock." "Makes no difference. 'E never run a drum, anyway." "Wot d'you 'ave on 'im?" 'Put a pony on 'im. Done ut cold." "Bob came out of ut all right, didn' yer Bob? Tin arse Bob they call 'im." "Done me shirt on the first, though. Shanks' pony 'ome, I reckoned. The old Cooky got me out of it. Fifteens." "Wonder the stewards didn' 'ave 'im up. Last start at Warwick Farm 'e runs last at fours." "Cookie wasn't on 'im, but." "Shrewd 'ead the old Cooky." "Must be gettin' bit long in the ototh now, don't yer reckon?" "No longer than the old Darm, an' 'e's still bungin' 'em in." "Wish 'e'd brought this crab in." "Reckon 'e pulled 'im?" "That's wot I reckon. But 'ow yer gunna prove ut?" "Yer can't prove ut." "Somebody slung in a poultice, I bet." "They're all crooked. Man's a mug." "You'll be out there next Saturdy." "NOt me I've had ut." "Don' gimme that. You'll be there." "How did Bert go, did yer hear?" "Still goin'.' "I went all right last week." "That was last week." "'E gets good information sometimes, the old Bert." "Sometimes. That was a good thing 'e gave me, the week before. Like hell ut was." "Ut was a good thing when 'e gave ut to yer. They pulled ut, that's all." "Ut wasn't pulled. Ut was dead." "Wot was the stable on?" "They was on that thing o' Thompson's. Every one o' the bastards was on that." "How der yer know?" "'Course they was." "Mightn' a been." "I got two quid ter say they was." |