“No, he ain’t got no birthmarks,” ses the woman, speaking very slow—and I could see she was afraid of making a mistake and losing me—“but he’s got tattoo marks. He’s got a mermaid tattooed on ’im.” “Where?” ses the skipper, a’most jumping. I ’eld my breath. Five sailormen out of ten have been tattooed with mermaids, and I was one of ’em. When she spoke agin I thought I should ha’ dropped. “On ’is right arm,” she ses, “unless he’s ’ad it rubbed off.” “You can’t rub out tattoo marks,” ses the skipper. They all stood looking at me as if they was waiting for something. I folded my arms—tight—and stared back at ’em. “If you ain’t this lady’s ’usband,” ses the skipper, turning to me, “you can take off your coat and prove it.” “And if you don’t we’ll take it off for you,” ses the carman, coming a bit closer. Arter that things ’appened so quick, I hardly knew whether I was standing on my ’ead or my heels. Both, I think. They was all on top o’ me at once, and the next thing I can remember is sitting on the ground in my shirt-sleeves listening to the potman, who was making a fearful fuss because somebody ’ad bit his ear ’arf off. My coat was ripped up the back, and one of the draymen was holding up my arm and showing them all the mermaid, while the other struck matches so as they could see better. “That’s your ’usband right enough,” he ses to the woman. “Take ’im.” “P’raps she’ll carry ’im ’ome,” I ses, very fierce and sarcastic. “And we don’t want none of your lip,” ses the carman, who was in a bad temper because he ’ad got a fearful kick on the shin from somewhere. I got up very slow and began to put my coat on again, and twice I ’ad to tell that silly woman that when I wanted her ’elp I’d let ’er know. Then I ’eard slow, heavy footsteps in the road outside, and, afore any of ’em could stop me, I was calling for the police. I don’t like policemen as a rule; they’re too inquisitive, but when the wicket was pushed open and I saw a face with a helmet on it peeping in, I felt quite a liking for ’em. “Wot’s up?” ses the policeman, staring ’ard at my little party. They all started telling ’im at once, and I should think if the potman showed him ’is ear once he showed it to ’im twenty times. He lost his temper and pushed it away at last, and the potman gave a ’owl that set my teeth on edge. I waited till they was all finished, and the policeman trying to get ’is hearing back, and then I spoke up in a quiet way and told ’im to clear them all off of my wharf. “They’re trespassing,” I ses, “all except the skipper and mate here. They belong to a little wash-tub that’s laying alongside, and they’re both as ’armless as they look.”