England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction
The airs the skipper gave ’imself was sickening. He sat down there in
’is miserable little rat-’ole of a cabin and acted as if ’e was a judge
and I was a prisoner. Most of the ’ands ’ad squeezed in there too, and
the things they advised George to do to me was remarkable.
“Silence!” ses the skipper. “Now, watchman, tell me exactly ’ow this
thing ’appened.”
“I’ve told you once,” I ses.
“I know,” ses the skipper, “but I want you to tell me again to see if
you contradict yourself. I can’t understand ’ow such a clever man as
you could be done so easy.”
I thought I should ha’ bust, but I kept my face wonderful. I just asked
’im wot the men was like that got off with ’is watch and chain and two
pounds, in case they might be the same.
“That’s different,” he ses.
“Oh!” ses I. “’Ow?”
“I lost my own property,” he ses, “but you lost George’s, and ’ow a man
like you, that’s so much sharper and cleverer than other people, could
be had so easy, I can’t think. Why, a child of five would ha’ known
better.”
“A baby in arms would ha’ known better,” ses the man wot ’ad bought the
di’mond ring. “’Ow could you ’ave been so silly, Bill? At your time o’
life, too!”
“That’s neither ’ere nor there,” ses the skipper. “The watchman has
lost twenty-five quid belonging to one o’ my men. The question is, wot
is he going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” I ses. “I didn’t ask ’im to let me mind the box. He done it
of ’is own free will. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, hasn’t it?” ses the skipper, drawing ’imself up. “I don’t want to
be too ’ard on you, but at the same time I can’t let my man suffer.
I’ll make it as easy as I can, and I order you to pay ’im five
shillings a week till the twenty-five pounds is cleared off.”
I laughed; I couldn’t ’elp it. I just stood there and laughed at ’im.
“If you don’t,” ses the skipper, “then I shall lay the facts of the
case afore the guv’nor. Whether he’ll object to you being in a pub a
mile away, taking care of a box of gold while you was supposed to be
taking care of the wharf, is his bisness. My bisness is to see that my
man ’as ’is rights.”
“’Ear, ’ear !” ses the crew.
“You please yourself, watchman,” ses the skipper. “You’re such a clever
man that no doubt you could get a better job to-morrow. There must be
’eaps of people wanting a man like you. It’s for you to decide. That’s
all I’ve got to say—five bob a week till pore George ’as got ’is money
back, or else I put the case afore the guv’nor. Wot did you say?”
I said it agin, and, as ’e didn’t seem to understand, I said it once
more.
“Please yourself,” ’e ses, when I ’ad finished. “You’re an old man, and
five bob a week can’t be much loss to you. You’ve got nothing to spend
it on, at your time o’ life. And you’ve got a very soft job ’ere. Wot?”
I didn’t answer ’im. I just turned round, and, arter giving a man wot
stood in my way a punch in the chest, I got up on deck and on to the
wharf, and said my little say all alone to myself, behind the crane.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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