England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
“P’r’aps you’ll tell me, then,” said the other.
“Who thought of it first?” demanded Mr. Raggett ferociously. “Who came
to me and asked me to court his slip of a girl?”
“Don’t you be a’ old fool,” said Mr. Boom heatedly. “It’s done now, and
what’s done can’t be undone. I never thought to have a son-in-law seven
or eight years older than what I am, and what’s more, I don’t want it.”
“Said I wasn’t much to look at, but she liked my chest o’ drawers,”
repeated Raggett mechanically.
“Don’t ask me where she gets her natur’ from, cos I couldn’t tell you,”
said the unhappy parent; “she don’t get it from me.”
Mr. Raggett allowed this reflection upon the late Mrs. Boom to pass
unnoticed, and taking his hat from the table, fixed it firmly upon his
head, and gazing with scornful indignation upon his host, stepped
slowly out of the door without going through the formality of bidding
him good-night.
“George,” said a voice from above him.
Mr. Raggett started, and glanced up at somebody leaning from the
window.
“Come in to tea to-morrow early,” said the voice pressingly;
“good-night, dear.”
Mr. Raggett turned and fled into the night, dimly conscious that a dark
figure had detached itself from the stile opposite, and was walking
beside him.
“That you, Dick?” he inquired nervously, after an oppressive silence.
“That’s me,” said Dick. “I heard her call you ‘dear.’” Mr. Raggett, his
face suffused with blushes, hung his head.
“Called you ‘dear,’” repeated Dick; “I heard her say it. I’m going to
pitch you into the harbour. I’ll learn you to go courting a young girl.
What are you stopping for?”
Mr. Raggett delicately intimated that he was stopping because he
preferred, all things considered, to be alone. Finding the young man,
however, bent upon accompanying him, he divulged the plot of which he
had been the victim, and bitterly lamented his share in it.
“You don’t want to marry her, then,” said the astonished Dick.
“Course I don’t,” snarled Mr. Raggett; “I can’t afford it. I’m too old;
besides which, she’ll turn my little place topsy-turvy. Look here,
Dick, I done this all for you. Now, it’s evident she only wants my
furniture: if I give all the best of it to you, she’ll take you
instead.”
“No, she won’t,” said Dick grimly; “I wouldn’t have her now not if she
asked me on her bended knee.”
“Why not?” said Raggett.
“I don’t want to marry that sort o’ girl,” said the other scornfully;
“it’s cured me.”
“What about me, then?” said the unfortunate Raggett.
“Well, so far as I can see, it serves you right for mixing in other
people’s business,” said Dick shortly. “Well, good-night, and good luck
to you.”
To Mr. Raggett’s sore disappointment, he kept to his resolution, and
being approached by Mr. Boom on his elderly friend’s behalf, was rudely
frank to him.
“I’m a free man again,” he said blithely, “and I feel better than I’ve
felt for ever so long. More manly.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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