Odd craft [complete]Jacobs, W. W. (William Wymark)
General
Odd craft [complete]
Jacobs, W. W. (William Wymark)
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction
“No, no,” ses Joe, starting and turning pale; “unless you’d like to
come and nurse my wife’s mother,” he ses, arter thinking a bit. “I was
hoping that you’d know who’d been overlooking me and that you’d make
’em take the spell off.”
Mrs. Prince got up from ’er chair and looked round for the broom she’d
been sweeping with, but, not finding it, she set down agin and stared
in a curious sort o’ way at Joe Barlcomb.
“Oh, I see,” she ses, nodding. “Fancy you guessing I was a witch.”
“You can’t deceive me,” ses Joe; “I’ve ’ad too much experience; I knew
it the fust time I saw you by the mole on your nose.”
Mrs. Prince got up and went into her back-place, trying her ’ardest to
remember wot she’d done with that broom. She couldn’t find it anywhere,
and at last she came back and sat staring at Joe for so long that ’e
was ’arf frightened out of his life. And by-and-by she gave a ’orrible
smile and sat rubbing the side of ’er nose with ’er finger.
“If I help you,” she ses at last, “will you promise to keep it a dead
secret and do exactly as I tell you? If you don’t, dead pigs’ll be
nothing to the misfortunes that you will ’ave.”
“I will,” ses Joe Barlcomb, very pale.
“The spell,” ses Mrs. Prince, holding up her ’ands and shutting ’er
eyes, “was put upon you by a man. It is one out of six men as is
jealous of you because you’re so clever, but which one it is I can’t
tell without your assistance. Have you got any money?”
“A little,” ses Joe, anxious-like—“a very little. Wot with the yellow
jaundice and other things, I——”
“Fust thing to do,” ses Mrs. Prince, still with her eyes shut, “you go
up to the Cauliflower to-night; the six men’ll all be there, and you
must buy six ha’pennies off of them; one each.”
“Buy six ha’pennies?” ses Joe, staring at her.
“Don’t repeat wot I say,” ses Mrs. Prince; “it’s unlucky. You buy six
ha’pennies for a shilling each, without saying wot it’s for. You’ll be
able to buy ’em all right if you’re civil.”
“It seems to me it don’t need much civility for that,” ses Joe, pulling
a long face.
“When you’ve got the ha’pennies,” ses Mrs. Prince, “bring ’em to me and
I’ll tell you wot to do with ’em. Don’t lose no time, because I can see
that something worse is going to ’appen if it ain’t prevented.”
“Is it anything to do with my wife’s mother getting worse?” ses Joe
Barlcomb, who was a careful man and didn’t want to waste six shillings.
“No, something to you,” ses Mrs. Prince.
Joe Barlcomb went cold all over, and then he put down a couple of eggs
he’d brought round for ’er and went off ’ome agin, and Mrs. Prince
stood in the doorway with a cat on each shoulder and watched ’im till
’e was out of sight.
That night Joe Barlcomb came up to this ’ere Cauliflower public-house,
same as he’d been told, and by-and-by, arter he ’ad ’ad a pint, he
looked round, and taking a shilling out of ’is pocket put it on the
table, and he ses, “Who’ll give me a ha’penny for that?” he ses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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