“He’s upstairs,” said the man, with a leer, “sitting in sackcloth and ashes, more ashes than sackcloth. Have you got some clothes for him?” “Look here,” said Tommy. He was down on his knees with the mouth of the bag open again, quite in the style of the practised hawker. “Give me an old suit of clothes for them. Hurry up. There’s a lovely frock.” “Blimey,” said the man, staring, “I’ve only got these clothes. Wot d’yer take me for? A dook?” “Well, get me some somewhere,” said Tommy. “If you don’t the cap’n ’ll have to come in these, and I’m sure he won’t like it.” “I wonder what he’d look like,” said the man, with a grin. “Damme if I don’t come up and see.” “Get me some clothes,” pleaded Tommy. “I wouldn’t get you clothes, no, not for fifty pun,” said the man severely. “Wot d’yer mean wanting to spoil people’s pleasure in that way? Come on, come and tell the cap’n what you’ve got for ’im, I want to ’ear what he ses. He’s been swearing ’ard since ten o’clock this morning, but he ought to say something special over this.” He led the way up the bare wooden stairs, followed by the harassed boy, and entered a small dirty room at the top, in the centre of which the master of the _Sarah Jane_ sat to deny visitors, in a pair of socks and last week’s paper. “Here’s a young gent come to bring you some clothes, cap’n,” said the man, taking the sack from the boy. “Why didn’t you come before?” growled the captain, who was reading the advertisements. The man put his hand in the sack, and pulled out the clothes. “What do you think of ’em?” he asked expectantly. The captain strove vainly to tell him, but his tongue mercifully forsook its office, and dried between his lips. His brain rang with sentences of scorching iniquity, but they got no further. “Well, say thank you, if you can’t say nothing else,” suggested his tormentor hopefully. “I couldn’t bring nothing else,” said Tommy hurriedly; “all the things was locked up. I tried to swop ’em and nearly got locked up for it. Put these on and hurry up.” The captain moistened his lips with his tongue. “The mate’ll get off directly she floats,” continued Tommy. “Put these on and spoil his little game. It’s raining a little now. Nobody’ll see you, and as soon as you git aboard you can borrow some of the men’s clothes.” “That’s the ticket, cap’n,” said the man. “Lord lumme, you’ll ’ave everybody falling in love with you.” “Hurry up,” said Tommy, dancing with impatience. “Hurry up.” The skipper, dazed and wild-eyed, stood still while his two assistants hastily dressed him, bickering somewhat about details as they did so. “He ought to be tight-laced, I tell you,” said the man. “He can’t be tight-laced without stays,” said Tommy scornfully. “You ought to know that.” “Ho, can’t he,” said the other, discomfited. “You know too much for a young-un. Well, put a bit o’ line round ’im then.”