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!"