The Mooch of Life
CONDUCTED BY C. J. DENNIS
(Told by the Engine Driver)
Accordlng to a Sydney telegram, when Dr. Lees, Archbishop of Melbourne, arrived there by the express
yesterday,he sprang off the train and leaped into the middle of the little crowd of clergy waiting to welcome
him. "Hello."he said. He had a big smile. He bounded about among the group shaking hands and laughing.
Yes, I was a-drivin' that train, sir ;
'Twas the Albury night express;
An' me an' my fireman, Benjamin,
We was feelin', I must confess,
In a bit of a jovial mood that night--
Real gay, for a fast train's crew--
We was crackln' of jokes on the footplate, sir.
An' 'ummin a toon or two.
We was tootin' of toots on the whistle
You might well--nigh call profane ;
When the news come through at a stoppin' place:
"THERE'S A BISHOP ABOARD THE TRAIN !
There's a bishop at rest in a sleepin' car,
A-sleepin' the sleep o' the just."
So I sez, "We must cut this foolln' Ben."
An' the fireman sez, "We must."
Well, I dunno 'ow an' I dunno why,
But a kind o' religious glow
Crept over the train as we start again ;
An' the fireman says to me, "Joe,
There is things I've did that I now regret:
I'm a sinner !" I answers, "Ben,
The tone of our train is loose and vain."
An' the fireman sez, "Amen,"
There was no more songs, there was no more jokes,
There was no more jovial faces,
An' I tries to whistle an anthem, sir,
When we come to the crossin' places.
An' I sez to the fireman, "Ben," I sez,
"All's vanity 'ere below!"
An' 'e shovels some coal in the firebox "ole.
An' 'e answers, "Verily, Joe."
Then'Ben 'e ups an' e' 'urns an 'ymn
To the beat o' the buffetin' rails,
As we steamed down to Sydney town--
"Where the wicked still prevails—
Where I've brought 'er in with a crash an' a din,
As I vows to never again;
For I feels like a sainted driver, sir, !
A-drivin a 'oly train.
I glides up slow an' I stops 'er soft.
As I never 'ave done before.
An' Ben an' me takes off our caps-
An' the bishop opens 'is door !
Was 'is eyes, cast down? Was 'is two 'ands clasped ?
Was 'e bleatin' a blessin' ? No.
But the smile on 'is face fair filled the place.
An the bishop shouts, " 'ULLO !"
Then out 'e bounds on the platform, sir,
Like a reel glad 'uman bloke ;
Ben looks at me; I looks at Ben;
An the bishop cracks a joke.
I looks' at Ben; Ben looks at me ;
For the game was fair confoundin'.
Then two glad smiles broke on our diles;
And the bishop went on boundin'.
Then up an' down that platform, sir,
A reel glad feeling' ran.
An' I sez to Ben, "Take 'eart, my lad,
For a bishop IS a man !
I've drove for years, M.P.'s and poors
Along the shinin' track ;
But this 'ere bishop does me, Ben,
An' I 'opes we drive 'im back."
Notes
From the Victorian Newspaper The Herald 14 Jun 1922 p. 8.
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