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 GOT no time fer wasters, lad," sez 'e
"Give me a man wiv grit," sez Uncle Jim.
'E bores 'is cute ole eyes right into me,
While I stares 'ard an' gives it back to 'im.
Then orl at once 'e grips me 'and in 'is;
"Some'ow," 'e sez, "I like yer ugly phiz."
"Yeh got a look," 'e sez, "like you could stay;
Altho' yeh mauls King's English when yeh yaps,
An' 'angs flash frills on ev'rythink yeh say.
I ain't no grammarist meself, per'aps,
But langwidge is a 'elp, I owns," sez Unk,
"When things is goin' crook." An' 'ere 'e wunk.
"Yeh'll find it tough," 'e sez, "to knuckle down.
Good farmin' is a gift—like spoutin' slang.
Yeh'll 'ave to cut the luxuries o' town,
An' chuck the manners uv this back-street gang;
Fer country life ain't cigarettes and beer."
"I'm game," I sez. Sez Uncle, "Put it 'ere!"
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