“Goog, goo,” ’e sez.  I’ll swear yeh never did
In all yer natcheril, see sich a kid. 
  The cunnin’ ways ‘e’s got; the knowin’ stare—­
  Ther’ ain’t a youngster like ’im anywhere!

An’, when ’e gits a little pain inside,
’Is dead straight griffin ain’t to be denied. 
  I’m sent to talk sweet nuffin’s to the fowls;
  While nurse turns ’and-springs ev’ry time ’e ’owls.

But say, I tell yeh straight...I been thro’ ’ell! 
The things I thort I wouldn’t dare to tell
  Lest, in the tellin’ I might feel again
  One little part of all that fear an’ pain.

It come so sudden that I lorst me block. 
First, it was, ’Ell-fer-leather to the doc.,
  ’Oo took it all so calm ’e made me curse
  An’ then I sprints like mad to get the nurse.

By gum; that woman!  But she beat me flat! 
A man’s jist putty in a game like that. 
  She owned me ’appy ’ome almost before
  She fairly got ’er nose inside me door.

Sweatin’ I was! but cold wiv fear inside
An’ then, to think a man could be denied
  ‘Is wife an’ ‘ome an’ told to fade away
  By jist one fat ole nurse ’oo’s in ’is pay!

I wus too weak wiv funk to start an’ rouse. 
’Struth!  Ain’t a man the boss in ’is own ’ouse? 
  “You go an’ chase yerself!” she tips me straight. 
  There’s nothin’ now fer you to do but—­wait.”

Wait?...Gawd!...I never knoo wot waitin’ meant
In all me life till that day I was sent
  To loaf around, while there inside—­Aw, strike! 
  I couldn’t tell yeh wot that hour was like!

Three times I comes to listen at the door;
Three times I drags meself away once more;
  ’Arf dead wiv fear; ‘arf dead wiv tremblin’ joy... 
  An’ then she beckons me, an’ sez-"A boy!”

“A boy!” she sez.  “An’ bofe is doin’ well!”
I drops into a chair, an’ jist sez—­“’Ell!”
  It was a pray’r.  I feels bofe crook an’ glad.... 
  An’ that’s the strength of bein’ made a dad.

I thinks of church, when in that room I goes,
‘Oldin’ me breaf an’ walkin’ on me toes. 
  Fer ‘arf a mo’ I feared me nerve ’ud fail
  To see ‘er lying there so still an’ pale.

She looks so frail, at first, I dursn’t stir. 
An’ then, I leans acrost an’ kisses ’er;
  An’ all the room gits sorter blurred an’ dim... 
  She smiles, an’ moves ’er ’ead.  “Dear lad!  Kiss ’im.”

Near smothered in a ton of snowy clothes,
First thing, I sees a bunch o’ stubby toes,
  Bald ‘ead, termater face, an’ two big eyes. 
  “Look, Kid,” she smiles at me.  “Ain’t ’e a size?”

’E didn’t seem no sorter size to me;
But yet, I speak no lie when I agree;
  “‘E is,” I sez, an’ smiles back at Doreen,
  “The biggest nipper fer ’is age I’ve seen.”

She turns away; ‘er eyes is brimmin’ wet. 
“Our little son!” she sez.  “Our precious pet!”
  An’ then, I seen a great big drop roll down
  An’ fall—­kersplosh!—­fair on ’is nibs’s crown.