A Square Deal

DREAMIN'?" I sez to Digger Smith."Buck up, ole sport, an' smile.Ain't there enough uv joy to-dayTo drive the bogey man awayAn' make reel things worth while?A bloke would think, to see you stare,There's visions on the 'ill-tops there."

"Dreamin'," sez Digger Smith. "Why not?An' there is visions too.An' when I get 'em sorted out,An' strafe that little bogey, Doubt,I'll start me life all new.Oh, I ain't crook; but packed in 'ereIs thoughts enough to last a year.

"I'm thinkin' things," sez Digger Smith."I'm thinkin' big an' fineUv Life an' Love an' all the rest,An' wot is right an' wot is best,An' 'ow much will be mine.

Not that I'm wantin' overmuch:Some work, some play, an' food an' such."

"See 'ere," I sez. "You 'ark to me.I've done some thinkin' too.An' this 'ere land, for wot yeh did,Owes some few million solid quidTo fightin' blokes like you.So don't be too dam modest orYeh'll git less than yeh're lookin' for."

"Money?" sez Digger. "Loot?" sez 'e"Aw, give that talk a rest!I'm sick uv it. I didn't sayThat I was thinkin' all uv pay,But wot was right an' best.An' that ain't in the crazy gameUv grabbin' wealth an' chasin' fame.

"Do you think us blokes Over There,When things was goin' strong,Was keepin' ledgers day be dayAn' reck'nin' wot the crowd would pay?Pull off! Yeh got it wrong.Do you think all the boys gone WestWants great swank 'ead-stones on their chest?

"You coots at 'ome 'as small ideerUv wot we think an' feel.We done our bit an' seen it thro',An' all that we are askin' youIs jist a fair, square deal.We want this land we battled forTo settle up—an' somethin' more.

"We want the land we battled forTo be a land worth while.We're sick uv greed, an' 'ate, an' strife,An' all the mess that's made uv life." . . .'E stopped a bit to smile."I got these thoughts Out There becosWe learnt wot mateship reely was."

••••••

The hills be'ind the orchard treesWas showin' misty blue.The ev'nin' light was growin' dim;An' down I sat 'longside uv 'im,An' done some dreamin' too.I dreams uv war; an' wot is paidBy blokes that went an' blokes that stayed.

I dreams uv honour an' reward,An' 'ow to pay a debt.For partin' cash, an' buyin' farms,An' fittin' chaps with legs an' armsAin't all—there's somethin' yet.There's still a solid balance due;An' now it's up to me an' you.

There's men I know ain't yet woke up,Or reckernized that debt—Proud men 'oo wouldn't take yeh downOr owe their grocer 'arf-a-crown—They ain't considered, yet,There's somethin' owin'—to the dead,An' Diggers live for more than bread.

The hills be'ind the orchard treesJist caught the settin' sun.A bloke might easy think that there,'Way back be'ind the range somewhere,Where streaks uv sunlight run,There was a land, swep' clear uv doubt,Where men finds wot they dreams about.

••••••

"Beauty," sez Digger, sudden-like,"An' love, an' kindliness;The chance to live a clean, straight life,A dinkum deal for kids an' wife:A man needs nothin' less. . . .Maybe they'll get it when I goTo push up daisies. I dunno."

"Dreamin'," sez Digger Smith. "Why not?There's visions on the hill.". . .Then I gets up an' steals away,An' leaves 'im with the dyin' day,Dreamin' an' doubtin' still. . . .Cobber, it's up to me an' youTo see that 'arf 'is dream comes true.