Oh, dear, ses Mrs. Finch, folding her ands and shaking her cad. I should like to go over a ship one arternoon. Id quite made up my mind to it, knowing three captins.
She smiled and looked at Ginger; and Sam and Peter looked at im too, wondering whether he was going to berth his ship at Dunkirk alongside o theirs.
Ah, I wish I ad met you a fortnight ago, ses Ginger, very sad. I gave up my ship, the High flyer, then, and Im waiting for one my owners are aving built for me at New-castle. They said the High flyer wasnt big enough for me. She was a nice little ship, though. I believe Ive got er picture somewhere about me!
He felt in is pocket and pulled out a little, crumpled-up photograph of a ship hed been fireman aboard of some years afore, and showed it to er.
Thats me standing on the bridge, he ses, pointing out a little dot with the stem of is pipe.
Its your figger, ses Mrs. Finch, straining her eyes. I should know it anywhere.
Youve got wonderful eyes, maam, ses old Sam, choking with is pipe.
Anybody can see that, ses Ginger. Theyre the largest and the bluest Ive ever seen.
Mrs. Finch told im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter Russet could see ow pleased she was.
Truth is truth, ses Ginger. Im a plain man, and I speak my mind.
Blue is my favrit colour, ses old Sam, in a tender voice. True blue.
Peter Russet began to feel out of it. I thought brown was, he ses.
Ho! ses Sam, turning on im; and why?
I ad my reasons, ses Peter, nodding, and shutting is mouth very firm.
I thought brown was is favrit colour too, ses Ginger. I dont know why. Its no use asking me; because if you did I couldnt tell you.
Browns a very nice colour, ses Mrs. Finch, wondering wot was the matter with old Sam.
Blue, ses Ginger; big blue eyestheyre the ones for me. Other people may ave their blacks and their browns, he ses, looking at Sam and Peter Russet, but give me blue.
They went on like that all the evening, and every time the shop-bell went and the widow ad to go out to serve a customer they said in wispers wot they thought of each other; and once when she came back rather sudden Ginger ad to explain to er that e was showing Peter Russet a scratch on his knuckle.
Ginger Dick was the fust there next night, and took er a little chiney teapot he ad picked up dirt cheap because it was cracked right acrost the middle; but, as he explained that he ad dropped it in hurrying to see er, she was just as pleased. She stuck it up on the mantelpiece, and the things she said about Gingers kindness and generosity made Peter Russet spend good money that he wanted for imself on a painted flower-pot next evening.
With three men all courting er at the same time Mrs. Finch had er hands full, but she took to it wonderful considering. She was so nice and kind to em all that even arter a weeks ard work none of em was really certain which she liked best.
They took to going in at odd times o the day for tobacco and such-like. They used to go alone then, but they all met and did the polite to each other there of an evening, and then quarrelled all the way ome.
Then all of a sudden, without any warning, Ginger Dick and Peter Russet left off going there. The fust evening Sam sat expecting them every minute, and was so surprised that he couldnt take any advantage of it; but on the second, beginning by squeezing Mrs. Finchs and at ha-past seven, he ad got best part of his arm round er waist by a quarter to ten. He didnt do more that night because she told him to beave imself, and threatened to scream if he didnt leave off.
He was arf-way home afore e thought of the reason for Ginger Dick and Peter Russet giving up, and then he went along smiling to imself to such an extent that people thought e was mad. He went off to sleep with the smile still on is lips, and when Peter and Ginger came in soon arter closing time and e woke up and asked them where theyd been, e was still smiling.
I didnt ave the pleasure o seeing you at Mrs. Finchs to-night, he ses.
No, ses Ginger, very short. We got tired of it.
So unealthy sitting in that stuffy little room every evening, ses Peter.
Old Sam put his ead under the bedclothes and laughed till the bed shook; and every now and then hed put his ead out and look at Peter and Ginger and laugh agin till he choked.
I see ow it is, he ses, sitting up and wiping his eyes on the sheet. Well, we cant all win.
Wot dye mean? ses Ginger, very disagreeable.
She wouldnt ave you, Sam, thats wot I mean. And I dont wonder at it. I wouldnt ave you if I was a gal.
Youre dreaming, ses Peter Russet, sneering at im.
That flower-pot o yoursll come in handy, ses Sam, thinking ow he ad put is arm round the widows waist; and I thank you kindly for the teapot, Ginger.
You dont mean to say as youve asked er to marry you? ses Ginger, looking at Peter Russet.
Not quite; but Im going to, ses Sam, and Ill bet you even arf-crowns she ses yes.
Ginger wouldnt take im, and no more would Peter, not even when he raised it to five shillings; and the vain way old Sam lay there boasting and talking about is way with the gals made em both feel ill.
I wouldnt ave her if she asked me on er bended knees, ses Ginger, holding up his ead.
Nor me, ses Peter. Youre welcome to er, Sam. When I think of the evenings Ive wasted over a fat old woman I feel
Thatll do, ses old Sam, very sharp; that aint the way to speak of a lady, even if she as said no.
All right, Sam, ses Ginger. You go in and win if you think youre so precious clever.
Old Sam said that that was wot e was going to do, and he spent so much time next morning making imself look pretty that the other two could ardly be civil to him.
He went off amost direckly arter breakfast, and they didnt see im agin till twelve oclock that night. He ad brought a bottle o whisky in with im, and he was so appy that they see plain wot had appened.
She said yes at two oclock in the arternoon, ses old Sam, smiling, arter they had ad a glass apiece. Id nearly done the trick at one oclock, and then the shop-bell went, and I ad to begin all over agin. Still, it wasnt unpleasant.
Do you mean to tell us youve asked er to marry you? ses Ginger, olding out is glass to be filled agin.
I do, ses Sam; but I ope theres no ill-feeling. You never ad a chance, neither of you; she told me so.
Ginger Dick and Peter Russet stared at each other.
She said she ad been in love with me all along, ses Sam, filling their glasses agin to cheer em up. We went out arter tea and bought the engagement-ring, and then she got somebody to mind the shop and we went to the Pagoda music-all.
I ope you didnt pay much for the ring, Sam, ses Ginger, who always got very kind-arted arter two or three glasses o whisky. If Id known you was going to be in such a hurry I might ha told you before.
We ought to ha done, ses Peter, shaking his ead.
Told me? ses Sam, staring at em. Told me wot?
Told me? ses Sam, staring at em. Told me wot?
Why me and Peter gave it up, ses Ginger; but, o course, praps you dont mind.
Mind wot? ses Sam.
Its wonderful ow quiet she kept it, ses Peter.
Old Sam stared at em agin, and then he asked em to speak in plain English wot theyd got to say, and not to go taking away the character of a woman wot wasnt there to speak up for herself.
Its nothing agin er character, ses Ginger. Its a credit to her, looked at properly, ses Peter Russet.
And Samll ave the pleasure of bringing of em up, ses Ginger.
Bringing of em up? ses Sam, in a trembling voice and turning pale; bringing who up?
Why, er children, ses Ginger. Didnt she tell you? Shes got nine of em.
Sam pretended not to believe em at fust, and said they was jealous; but next day he crept down to the greengrocers shop in the same street, where Ginger had appened to buy some oranges one day, and found that it was only too true. Nine children, the eldest of em only fifteen, was staying with diffrent relations owing to scarlet-fever next door.
Old Sam crept back ome like a man in a dream, with a bag of oranges he didnt want, and, arter making a present of the engagement-ring to Gingerif e could get ithe took the fust train to Tilbury and signed on for a vyge to China.
THE BOATSWAINS MATE
Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with a despondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in his hand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair, eyed him with some heat.
My feelingsll never change, said the boatswain.
Nor mine either, said the landlady, sharply. Its a strange thing, Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third mug.
Its only to get my courage up, pleaded the boatswain. Next time Ill do it afore I ave a drop; thatll prove to you Im in earnest.
He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could make a selection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.
After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road seemed hot and dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a man whose hand has been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on unheeding. His steps lagged, but his brain was active.
He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady bank took a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe. The heat and the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes closed.
He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling in his pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder. He saw a tall man carrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage, the keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting the old soldier.
The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed him pleasantly.
Got a pipe o baccy, mate? he inquired.
The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept that luxury.
Lobster, aint you? he said, affably.
The tall man nodded. Was, he replied. Now Im my own commander-in-chief.
Padding it? suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him and refilling his pipe.
The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversation dropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him. Ive got plenty of time, he remarked.
Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence. A dim idea which had been in his mind for some time began to clarify. He stole a glance at his companiona man of about thirty-eight, clear eyes, with humorous wrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a cheerful expression more than tinged with recklessness.
Aint over and above fond o work? suggested the boatswain, when he had finished his inspection.
I love it, said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, but we cant have all we want in this world; it wouldnt be good for us.
The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed. Then he rattled his pocket.
Would arf a quid be any good to you? he inquired.
Look here, began the soldier; just because I asked you for a pipe o baccy
No offence, said the other, quickly. I mean if you earned it?
The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. Gardening and windows? he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.
The boatswain shook his head.
Scrubbing, praps? said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation. Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me of pouching the soap. Hang em!
And you didnt? queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.
The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at him darkly. I cant give it back to you, he said, slowly, because Ive smoked some of it, and I cant pay you for it because Ive only got twopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey, and next time a poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil.
I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days, expostulated the boat-swain. I ad my reasons for that remark, mate. Good reasons they was.
The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.
I spoke of arf a sovereign just now, continued the boatswain, impressively, and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o burgling, youll see ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your honesty.
Burgling? gasped the astonished soldier. Honesty? Struth; are you drunk or am I?
Meaning, said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand, for you to pretend to be a burglar.
Were both drunk, thats what it is, said the other, resignedly.
The boatswain fidgeted. If you dont agree, mums the word and no arm done, he said, holding out his hand.
Mums the word, said the soldier, taking it. My names Ned Travers, and, barring cells for a spree now and again, theres nothing against it. Mind that.
Might appen to anybody, said Mr. Benn, soothingly. You fill your pipe and dont go chucking good tobacco away agin.
Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity, stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away. Then he resumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other fire away.
I aint got it all ship-shape and proper yet, said Mr. Benn, slowly, but its in my minds eye. Its been there off and on like for some time.
He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge. Two miles from here, where I live, he said, after several vigorous puffs, theres a little public-ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wot Ive got my eye on.
The soldier sat up.
She wont ave me, said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise.
The soldier leaned back again.
Shes a lone widder, continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, and the Beehive is in a lonely place. Its right through the village, and the nearest house is arf a mile off.
Silly place for a pub, commented Mr. Travers.
Ive been telling her ow unsafe it is, said the boatswain. Ive been telling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she only laughs at me. She dont believe it; dye see? Likewise Im a small mansmall, but stiff. She likes tall men.