England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction
“‘You’ve wasted pretty near arf a ’undered-weight,’ I ses. ‘I’ve a good
mind to report you.’
“‘Don’t do that, watchman!’ he ses, in a pitiful voice. ‘Don’t do that!
’Ere, I tell you wot I’ll do. I’ll pick it all up agin.’
“Afore I could move ’and or foot he ’ad shifted a couple o’ cases out
of ’is way and was in among the empties. I stood there dazed-like while
two bits o’ coke came flying back past my ’ed; then I ’eard a loud
whistle, and ’e came out agin with ’is eyes rolling and ’is mouth wide
open.
“‘Wot’s the matter?’ ses the skipper, staring at ’im.
“‘I—I—I’m sorry, watchman,’ ses that beast of a boy, purtending ’e was
’ardly able to speak. ‘I’d no idea——’
“‘All right,’ I ses, very quick.
“‘Wot’s the matter?’ ses the skipper agin; and as ’e spoke it came over
me like a flash wot a false persition I was in, and wot a
nasty-tempered man ’e could be when ’e liked.
“‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d got a lady-friend there?’ ses the boy,
shaking his ’ed at me. ‘Why, I might ’ave hit ’er with a bit o’ coke,
and never forgiven myself!’
“‘Lady-friend!’ ses the skipper, with a start. ‘Oh, Bill, I am
surprised!’
“My throat was so dry I couldn’t ’ardly speak. ‘It’s my missis,’ I ses,
at last.
“‘Your missis?’ ses the skipper. ‘Woes she ’iding behind there for?’
“‘She—she’s shy,’ I ses. ‘Always was, all ’er life. She can’t bear
other people. She likes to be alone with me.’
“‘Oh, watchman!’ ses the boy. ‘I wonder where you expect to go to?’
“‘Missis my grandmother!’ ses the skipper, with a wink. ‘I’m going to
’ave a peep.’
“‘Stand back!’ I ses, pushing ’im off. ‘I don’t spy on you, and I don’t
want you to come spying on me. You get off! D’ye hear me? Get off!’
“We had a bit of a struggle, till my foot slipped, and while I was
waving my arms and trying to get my balance back ’e made a dash for the
empties. Next moment he was roaring like a mad bull that ’ad sat down
in a sorsepan of boiling water, and rushing back agin to kill me.
“I believe that if it ’adn’t ha’ been for a couple o’ lightermen wot
’ad just come on to the jetty from their skiff, and two of his own
’ands, he’d ha’ done it. Crazy with passion ’e was, and it was all the
four of ’em could do to hold ’im. Every now and then he’d get a yard
nearer to me, and then they’d pull ’im back a couple o’ yards and beg
of ’im to listen to reason and ’ear wot I ’ad to say. And as soon as I
started and began to tell ’em about ’is lady-friend he broke out worse
than ever. People acrost the river must ha’ wondered wot was ’appening.
There was two lightermen, two sailormen, me and the skipper, and Mrs.
Pratt all talking at once, and nobody listening but the office-boy. And
in the middle of it all the wicket was pushed open and the ’ed of the
lady wot all the trouble was about peeped in, and drew back agin.
“‘There you are!’ I ses, shouting my ’ardest. ‘There she is. That’s the
lady I was telling you about. Now, then: put ’em face to face and clear
my character. Don’t let ’er escape.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account