The Barber's Story

"Mornin'," I sez to 'im,
Gloomy, 'e seemed to be.
Glum an' unsociable. Comes in the shop
"Mornin'," I sez to 'im.
'E don't say anythin'.
"You're next," I sez; an' 'e sits with a flop.

"Great Cup?" I sez to 'im.
Shakin' the wrappin's out.
'E don't say nuthin'; but jist give a grunt.
"Great win?" I sez to 'im,
Smilin' incouragin'.
"Wonderful way that 'e come to the front."

'E don't reply to me.
Sits sorta glarin' like.
"Phar Lap," I sez to 'im. "Wonder 'orse. Wot?
'Ave a win yestidy?"
Still 'e don't answer me.
"Phar Lap," I sez, "'e made 'acks of the lot."

"Champeen," I sez to 'him.
"Wonderful popiler ...
This 'ere Tregiller, 'e never showed up ...
Phar Lap," I sez to 'im,
"Mus' be a wonder 'orse.
But this Tregiller run bad in the Cup."

"Wot?" 'e come back at me,
Lookin' peculiar -
Red in the face, so I thought 'e would choke.
"Cab-horse!" 'e sez to me,
Nasty an' venimous -
Reel disagreeable sort of a bloke.

"Tregiller!" 'e sez to me,
Glarin' reel murderous.
"Tregiller!!" 'e barks at me. "That 'airy goat!"
Surly, 'e seemed to me -
Man couldn't talk to 'im. . . .
"'Air-cut?" I sez to 'im.
"No!" 'e sez. "Throat!"