“
HE DO THE POLICE IN DIFFERENT VOICES: Part I
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
First we had a couple of feelers down at Tom's place,
There was old Tom, boiled to the eyes, blind,
(Don't you remember that time after a dance,
Top hats and all, we and Silk Hat Harry,
And old Tom took us behind, brought out a bottle of fizz,
With old Jane, Tom's wife; and we got Joe to sing
'I'm proud of all the Irish blood that's in me,
'There's not a man can say a word agin me').
Then we had dinner in good form, and a couple of Bengal lights.
When we got into the show, up in Row A,
I tried to put my foot in the drum, and didn't the girl squeal,
She never did take to me, a nice guy - but rough;
The next thing we were out in the street, Oh it was cold!
When will you be good? Blew in to the Opera Exchange,
Sopped up some gin, sat in to the cork game,
Mr. Fay was there, singing 'The Maid of the Mill';
Then we thought we'd breeze along and take a walk.
Then we lost Steve.
('I turned up an hour later down at Myrtle's place.
What d'y' mean, she says, at two o'clock in the morning,
I'm not in business here for guys like you;
We've only had a raid last week, I've been warned twice.
Sergeant, I said, I've kept a decent house for twenty years, she says,
There's three gents from the Buckingham Club upstairs now,
I'm going to retire and live on a farm, she says,
There's no money in it now, what with the damage don,
And the reputation the place gets, on account off of a few bar-flies,
I've kept a clean house for twenty years, she says,
And the gents from the Buckingham Club know they're safe here;
You was well introduced, but this is the last of you.
Get me a woman, I said; you're too drunk, she said,
But she gave me a bed, and a bath, and ham and eggs,
And now you go get a shave, she said; I had a good laugh, couple of laughs (?)
Myrtle was always a good sport'). treated me white.
We'd just gone up the alley, a fly cop came along,
Looking for trouble; committing a nuisance, he said,
You come on to the station. I'm sorry, I said,
It's no use being sorry, he said; let me get my hat, I said.
Well by a stroke of luck who came by but Mr. Donovan.
What's this, officer. You're new on this beat, aint you?
I thought so. You know who I am? Yes, I do,
Said the fresh cop, very peevish. Then let it alone,
These gents are particular friends of mine.
- Wasn't it luck? Then we went to the German Club,
Us We and Mr. Donovan and his friend Joe Leahy, Heinie Gus Krutzsch
Found it shut. I want to get home, said the cabman,
We all go the same way home, said Mr. Donovan,
Cheer up, Trixie and Stella; and put his foot through the window.
The next I know the old cab was hauled up on the avenue,
And the cabman and little Ben Levin the tailor,
The one who read George Meredith,
Were running a hundred yards on a bet,
And Mr. Donovan holding the watch.
So I got out to see the sunrise, and walked home.
* * * *
April is the cruellest month, breeding
lilacs out of the dead land....
”
”
T.S. Eliot (The Waste Land Facsimile)