Keith bites 'is lips; 'e never turns 'is 'ead.
"Wot in the 'ell;" sez Mick, " 'ere, wot's yer game?"
"I'm an Australian," that wus all 'e said,
An' pride took 'old o' Mick to 'ear that name—
A noo, glad pride that ain't the pride o' class—
An' Mick's contempt, it took the count at lars'!
All night they stayed there, Mick near mad wiv pain,
An' Keith jist lettin' up 'is watchful eye
To ease Mick's wounds an' bind 'em up again.
An' give 'im water, w'ile 'imself went dry.
Brothers they wus, 'oo found their brother'ood
That night on Sari Bair, an' found it good.
Brothers they wus. I'm wond'rin', as I read
This scrawl uv Mick's, an' git its meanin' plain,
If you, 'oo never give these things no 'eed,
Ain't got some brothers down in Spadger's Lane—
Brothers you never 'ad the chance to meet
Becos they got no time fer Collins Street.
"I'm an Australian." Well, it takes the bun!
It's got that soft spot in the 'eart o' Mick.
But don't make no mistake; 'e don't gush none,
Or come them "brother'ood" remarks too thick.
'E only writes, "This Keith's a decent coot.
Cobber o' mine, an' white from cap to boot."
