Analysis of Dummy Bridge
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis 1876 (Auburn) – 1938 (Melbourne)
'If I'd 'a' played me Jack on that there Ten'
Sez Peter Begg, 'I might 'a' made the lot.'
''Ow could yeh?' barks ole Poole. ''Ow could yeh, when
I 'ad me Queen be'ind?' Sez Begg, 'Wot rot!
I slung away me King to take that trick.
Which one! Say, ain't yer 'ead a trifle thick?'
'Now, don't yeh see that when I plays me King
I give yer Queen a chance, an' lost the slam.'
But Poole, 'e sez 'e don't see no such thing,
So Begg gits 'ot, an' starts to loose a 'Damn.'
'E twigs the missus jist in time to check,
An' makes it 'Dash,' an' gits red down 'is neck.
There's me an' Peter Begg, an' ole man Poole
Neighbours uv mine, that farm a bit close by
Jist once a week or so we makes a school,
An' gives this game uv Dummy Bridge a fly.
Doreen, she 'as her sewing be the fire,
The kid's in bed; an' 'ere's me 'eart's desire.
'Ome-comfort, peace, the picter uv me wife
'Appy at work, me neighbours gathered round
All friendly-like - wot more is there in life?
I've searched a bit, but better I ain't found.
Doreen, she seems content, but in 'er eye
I've seen reel pity when the talk gits 'igh.
This ev'nin' we 'ad started off reel 'ot:
Two little slams, an' Poole, without a score,
Still lookin' sore about the cards 'e'd got
When, sudden-like, a knock comes to the door.
'A visitor,' growls Begg, 'to crool our game.'
An' looks at me, as though I was to blame.
Jist as Doreen goes out, I seen 'er grin.
'Deal 'em up quick!' I whispers. 'Grab yer 'and,
An' look reel occupied when they comes in.
Per'aps they'll 'ave the sense to understand.
If it's a man, maybe 'e'll make a four;
But if' - Then Missus Flood comes in the door.
'Twas ole Mar Flood, 'er face wrapped in a smile.
'Now, boys,' she sez, 'don't let me spoil yer game.
I'll jist chat with Doreen a little while;
But if yeh stop I'll be ashamed I came.'
An' then she waves a letter in 'er 'and.
Sez she, 'Our Jim's a soldier! Ain't it grand?'
'Good boy,' sez Poole. 'Let's see. I make it 'earts.'
'Doubled!' shouts Begg...'An' 'e's been in a fight,'
Sez Missus Flood, 'out in them furrin' parts.
French, I suppose. I can't pronounce it right.
'E's been once wounded, somewhere in the leg...'
''Ere, Bill! Yeh gone to sleep?' asks Peter Begg.
I plays me Queen uv Spades, an' plays 'er bad.
Begg snorts....'My boy,' sighs Missus Flood. 'My Jim.'...
'King 'ere,' laughs Poole. 'That's the last Spade I 'ad.'...
Doreen she smiles: 'I'm glad yeh've 'eard from 'im.'...
'We're done,' groans Begg. 'Why did yeh nurse yer Ace?'...
'My Jim!' An' there was sunlight in 'er face.
'I always thought a lot of Jim, I did,'
Sez Begg. ''E does yeh credit. 'Ere, your deal.'
'That's so,' sez Poole. ''E was an all-right kid.
No trumps? I'm sorry that's the way yeh feel.
'Twill take yeh all yer time to make the book.'...
An' then Doreen sends me the wireless look.
I gets the S.O.S.; but Begg is keen.
'My deal,' 'e yaps. 'Wot rotten cards I get.'
Ole Missus Flood sits closer to Doreen.
'The best,' she whispers, 'I ain't told yeh yet.'
I strains me ears, an' leads me King uv Trumps.
'Ace 'ere!' grins Begg. Poole throws 'is Queen - an' thumps.
'That saves me Jack!' 'owls Begg. 'Tough luck ole sport.'...
Sez Missus Flood, 'Jim's won a medal, too
For doin' somethin' brave at Bullycourt.'...
'Play on, play on,' growls Begg. 'It's up to you.'
Then I reneges, an' trumps me partner's Ace,
An' Poole gets sudden murder in 'is face.
'I'm sick of this 'ere game,' 'e grunts. 'It's tame.'
'Righto,' I chips. 'Suppose we toss it in?'
Begg don't say nothin'; so we sling the game.
On my wife's face I twigs a tiny grin.
'Finished?' sez she, su'prised. 'Well, p'r'aps it's right.
It looks to me like 'earts was trumps tonight.'
An' so they was. An', say, the game was grand.
Two hours we sat while that ole mother told
About 'er Jim, 'is letter in 'er 'and,
An', on 'er face, a glowing look that rolled
The miles all up that lie 'twixt France an' 'ere,
An' found 'er son, an' brought 'im very near.
A game uv Bridge it was, with 'earts for trumps.
We was the dummies, sittin' silent there.
I knoo the men, like me, was feelin' chumps:
Foolin' with cards while this was in the air.
It took Doreen to shove us in our place;
An' mother 'eld the lot, right from the Ace.
She told us 'ow 'e said 'e'd writ before,
An' 'ow the letters must 'ave gone astray;
An' 'ow the stern ole father still was sore,
But looked like 'e'd be soft'nin', day by day;
'Ow pride in Jim peeps out be'ind 'is frown,
An' '
Scheme | ABABCC DEDEFF GHGHII JKJKHJ XLBLMM NONPLL QMQMOP RSRSTT UVUVRR WXWXYY Z1 Z1 RR X2 B2 RR MNMNSS P3 O3 4 X R4 R4 RR L5 L5 XX |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 1101111111 1101110101 1111111111 111111111 1101111111 1111110101 1111111111 1111011101 1111111111 1111111101 1101010111 1111111111 1111011111 111110111 1101111101 1111110101 01110101010 01011111010 110101111 11111101 1101111101 1101110111 0111101001 1111010111 111110111 1101110101 111010111 1101011101 01001111101 1111111111 1101111101 1111110110 111101110 11101101 1101101101 1111011001 1111011001 1111111111 1111010101 1111110111 1111010000 11101010111 1111111111 1011111001 110110111 1101110111 111101001 1111111101 1111111101 1111110111 1111101111 01111111111 1111111111 111111001 111011111 1111110111 1111111111 1111010111 1111111101 1101110101 11011111 1111110111 1101110101 0111011111 1111111111 1111111111 1111111111 1101110101 111111 1111111111 111111101 1111010011 1111111111 1011011110 1111011101 1111110101 101111111 1111111101 1111110111 11011111101 0101110000 1101010111 0111111111 1101111101 0111111111 110101101 110111111 111111001 11011110101 1101011101 1111111101 1101011101 1101110111 111111111 110111111 1 |
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 4,340 |
Words | 898 |
Sentences | 107 |
Stanzas | 16 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6 |
Lines Amount | 96 |
Letters per line (avg) | 32 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 193 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 53 |
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 4:30 min read
- 102 Views
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"Dummy Bridge" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/6299/dummy-bridge>.
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