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!"