"'Twill have to keep till later on." He answers, "As you like."
Soon after that I saw him talkin' earnest with old Pike.
If I'd been right, I might have known there's somethin' in the air
By the way the blokes were actin'; but a fat lot did I care.
Swell visions an' the deadly pip was what was wrong with me.
I slung a word to my old dog, an' we trudged home to tea.
An' after, in the same old way, we sits beside the fire,
To have a talk, my dog an' me, on fools an' vain desire.
I tell him I'm a silly chump to think the things I do.
An', with a waggle of his tail, he says he thinks so too.
I tell him I suppose she's rich, or so she seems to be;
Most likely some reel city swell—an' he don't disagree.
I says to him the chances are I'll not see her no more.
Then he gives me a funny look, an' curls up on the floor.
But I was slow to take the tip, an' went on talkin' rot
About injustice in the world, an' boiled up good an' hot.
I spouts of wrongs of workin' men an' how our rulers fail.
His eyes are shut, but he just seconds motions with his tail.
All beauty's only for the rich, all times, an' every way.
The toilers just take what is left, as I've heard Murray say
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THE VISION
43
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