“In about a week arter we was paid off at the Albert Docks these chaps was all cleaned out, and they was all in despair, with a thirst wot wasn’t half quenched and a spree wot was on’y in a manner o’ speaking just begun, and at the end of that time they came round to a room wot I ’ad, to see wot could be done. There was four of ’em in all: old Sam Small, Ginger Dick, Peter Russet, and a orphan nevy of Sam’s whose father and mother was dead. The mother ’ad been ’alf nigger an’ ’alf Malay when she was living, and Sam was always pertickler careful to point out that his nevy took arter ’er. It was enough to make the pore woman turn in ’er grave to say so, but Sam used to say that ’e owed it to ’is brother to explain. “‘Wot’s to be done?’ ses Peter Russet, arter they’d all said wot miserable chaps they was, an’ ’ow badly sailor-men was paid. ‘We’re all going to sign on in the _Land’s End_, but she doesn’t sail for a fortnight; wot’s to be done in the meantime for to live?’ “‘There’s your watch, Peter,’ ses old Sam, dreamy-like, ‘and there’s Ginger’s ring. It’s a good job you kep’ that ring, Ginger. We’re all in the same boat, mates, an’ I on’y wish as I’d got something for the general good. It’s ’aving an orphan nevy wot’s kep’ me pore.’ “‘Stow it,’ ses the nevy, short-like. “‘Everything’s agin us,’ ses old Sam. There’s them four green parrots I brought from Brazil, all dead.’ “‘So are my two monkeys,’ ses Peter Russet, shaking ’is ’ead; ‘they used to sleep with me, too.’ “They all shook their ’eads then, and Russet took Sam up very sharp for saying that p’r’aps if he ’adn’t slep’ with the monkeys they wouldn’t ha’ died. He said if Sam knew more about monkeys than wot ’e did, why didn’t ’e put ’is money in them instead o’ green parrots wot pulled their feathers out and died of cold. “‘Talking about monkeys,’ ses Ginger Dick, interrupting old Sam suddenly, ‘wot about young Beauty here?’ “‘Well, wot about him?’ ses the nevy, in a nasty sort o’ way. “‘W’y, ’e’s worth forty monkeys an’ millions o’ green parrots,’ ses Ginger, starting up; ‘an’ here ’e is a-wasting of ’is opportunities, going about dressed like a Christian. Open your mouth, Beauty, and stick your tongue out and roll your eyes a bit.’ “‘W’y not leave well alone, Ginger?’ ses Russet; and I thought so too. Young Beauty was quite enough for me without that. “‘Ter ’blige me,’ ses Ginger, anxiously, ‘just make yourself as ugly as wot you can, Beauty.’ “‘Leave ’im alone,’ ses old Sam, as his nevy snarled at ’em. ‘You ain’t everybody’s money yourself, Ginger.’