Works of W. W. Jacobs

Home > Other > Works of W. W. Jacobs > Page 271
Works of W. W. Jacobs Page 271

by Jacobs, W. W.


  12.40 a.m. — Private Merited returned with the M.O. Latter nicely dressed in musical-comedy pyjamas of ravishing hue, and great-coat, with rose- tinted feet thrust into red morocco slippers. Held consultation and explained my treatment. M.O. much impressed, anxious to know whether I was a doctor. Told him “No,” but that I knew all the ropes. First give patient castor-oil, then diet him and call every day to make sure that he doesn’t like his food. After that, if he shows signs of getting well too soon, give him a tonic. . . . M.O. stuffy.

  Dec. 10. — M.O. diagnosed attack as due to something which True Born believes to be tobacco, with which he disinfects the house, the mess-sheds, and the streets of Berkhamsted.

  Dec. 11. — True Born, shorn of thirteen pipes a day out of sixteen, disparages the whole race of M.O.’s.

  Dec. 14. — He obtains leave to attend wedding of a great-aunt and ransacks London for a specialist who advocates strong tobacco.

  Dec. 15. — He classes specialists with M.O.’s. Is surprised (and apparently disappointed) that, so far, the breaking of the looking-glass has brought me no ill-luck. Feel somewhat uneasy myself until glass is repaired by local cabinet-maker.

  Jan. 10, 1917. — Lieut. True Born starts to break in another horse.

  Feb. 1. — Horse broken.

  March 3. — Running short of tobacco, go to my billet’s room and try a pipe of his. Take all the remedies except the castor-oil.

  April 4, 8.30 a.m. — Awakened by an infernal crash and discover that my poor looking-glass is in pieces again on the floor. True Born explains that its position, between the open door and the open window, was too much for it. Don’t believe a word of it. Shall believe to my dying day that it burst in a frantic but hopeless attempt to tell Lieut. True Born the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  April 6. — The lieutenant watching for some sign of misfortune to me. Says that I can’t break a mirror twice without ill-luck following it. Me!

  April 9. — Lieut. True Born comes up to me with a face full of conflicting emotions. “Your ill-luck has come at last,” he says with gloomy satisfaction. “We go under canvas on the 23rd. You are losing me!”

  THE SUBSTITUTE

  The night watchman had just returned to the office fire after leaving it to attend a ring at the wharf bell. He sat for some time puffing fiercely at his pipe and breathing heavily.

  “Boys!” he said, at last. “That’s the third time this week, and yet if I was to catch one and skin ‘im alive I suppose I should get into trouble over it. Even ‘is own father and mother would make a fuss, most like. Some people have boys, and other people ‘ave the trouble of ’em. Our street’s full of ’em, and the way they carry on would make a monkey-’ouse ashamed of itself. The man next door to me’s got seven of ’em, and when I spoke to ‘im friendly about it over a pint one night, he put the blame on ‘is wife.

  “The worst boy I ever knew used to be office-boy in this ‘ere office, and I can’t understand now why I wasn’t ‘ung for him. Undersized little chap he was, with a face the colour o’ bad pie-crust, and two little black eyes like shoe-buttons. To see ‘im with his little white cuffs, and a stand-up collar, and a little black bow, and a little bowler-’at, was enough to make a cat laugh. I told ‘im so one day, and arter that we knew where we was. Both of us.

  “By rights he ought to ‘ave left the office at six — just my time for coming on. As it was, he used to stay late, purtending to work ‘ard so as to get a rise. Arter all the clerks ‘ad gorn ‘ome he used to sit perched up on a stool yards too ‘igh for him, with one eye on the ledger and the other looking through the winder at me. I remember once going off for ‘arf a pint, and when I come back I found ‘im with a policeman, two carmen, and all the hands off of the Maid Marian, standing on the edge of the jetty, waiting for me to come up. He said that, not finding me on the wharf, ‘e made sure that I must ‘ave tumbled overboard, as he felt certain that I wouldn’t neglect my dooty while there was breath in my body; but ‘e was sorry to find ‘e was mistook. He stood there talking like a little clergyman, until one of the carmen knocked his ‘at over ‘is eyes, and then he forgot ‘imself for a bit.

  “Arter that I used to wait until he ‘ad gorn afore I ‘ad my arf-pint. I didn’t want my good name taken away, and I had to be careful, and many’s the good arf-pint I ‘ad to refuse because that little imitation monkey was sitting in the office drawing faces on ‘is blotting-paper. But sometimes it don’t matter ‘ow careful you are, you make a mistake.

  “There was a little steamer, called the Eastern Monarch, used to come up here in them days, once a week. Fat little tub she was, with a crew o’ fattish old men, and a skipper that I didn’t like. He’d been in the coasting trade all ‘is life, while I’ve knocked about all over the world, but to hear ‘im talk you’d think he knew more about things than I did.

  “Eddication, Bill,’ he ses one evening, ‘that’s the thing! You can’t argufy without it; you only talk foolish, like you are doing now.’

  “‘There’s eddication and there’s common sense,’ I ses. ‘Some people ‘as one and some people ‘as the other. Give me common sense.’

  “‘That’s wot you want,’ he ses, nodding.

  “‘And, o’ course,’ I ses, looking at ‘im, ‘there’s some people ‘asn’t got either one or the other.’

  “The office-boy came out of the office afore he could think of an answer, and the pair of ’em stood there talking to show off their cleverness, till their tongues ached. I took up my broom and went on sweeping, and they was so busy talking long words they didn’t know the meaning of to each other that they was arf choked with dust afore they noticed it. When they did notice it they left off using long words, and the skipper tried to hurt my feelings with a few short ones ‘e knew.

  “‘It’s no good wasting your breath on ‘im,’ ses the boy. ‘You might as well talk to a beer-barrel.’

  “He went off, dusting ‘imself down with his little pocket-’ankercher, and arter the skipper ‘ad told me wot he’d like to do, only he was too sorry for me to do it, ‘e went back to the ship to put on a clean collar, and went off for the evening.

  “He always used to go off by hisself of a evening, and I used to wonder ‘ow he passed the time. Then one night I found out.

  “I had just come out of the Bear’s Head, and stopped to look round afore going back to the wharf, when I see a couple o’ people standing on the swing-bridge saying ‘Good-bye’ to each other. One of ’em was a man and the other wasn’t.

  “‘Evening, cap’n,’ I ses, as he came towards me, and gave a little start. ‘I didn’t know you ‘ad brought your missis up with you this trip.’

  “‘Evening, Bill,’ he ses, very peaceful. ‘Wot a lovely evening!’

  “‘Bee-utiful!’ I ses.

  “‘So fresh,’ ses the skipper, sniffing in some of the air.

  “‘Makes you feel quite young agin,’ I ses.

  “He didn’t say nothing to that, except to look at me out of the corner of ‘is eye; and stepping on to the wharf had another look at the sky to admire it, and then went aboard his ship. If he ‘ad only stood me a pint, and trusted me, things might ha’ turned out different.

  “Quite by chance I happened to be in the Bear’s Head a week arterwards, and, quite by chance, as I came out I saw the skipper saying ‘Good-bye’ on the bridge agin. He seemed to be put out about something, and when I said ‘Wot a lovely evening it would be if only it wasn’t raining ‘ard!’ he said something about knocking my ‘ead off.

  “‘And you keep your nose out o’ my bisness,’ he ses, very fierce.

  “‘Your bisness!’ I ses. ‘Wot bisness?’

  “‘There’s some people as might like to know that you leave the wharf to look arter itself while you’re sitting in a pub swilling gallons and gallons o’ beer,’ he ses, in a nasty sort o’ way. ‘Live and let live, that’s my motter.”

  “‘I don’t know wot you’re talking about,’ I ses, ‘but it don�
��t matter anyways. I’ve got a clear conscience; that’s the main thing. I’m as open as the day, and there’s nothing about me that I’d mind anybody knowing. Wot a pity it is everybody can’t say the same!’

  “I didn’t see ‘im saying ‘Good-bye’ the next week or the week arter that either, but the third week, arter just calling in at the Bear’s Head, I strolled on casual-like and got as far as the bottom of Tower Hill afore I remembered myself. Turning the corner, I a’most fell over the skipper, wot was right in the fair way, shaking ‘ands with his lady-friend under the lamp-post. Both of ’em started, and I couldn’t make up my mind which gave me the most unpleasant look.

  “‘Peep-bo!’ I ses, cheerful-like.

  “He stood making a gobbling noise at me, like a turkey.

  “‘Give me quite a start, you did,’ I ses. ‘I didn’t dream of you being there.’

  “‘Get off!’ he ses, spluttering. ‘Get off, afore I tear you limb from limb! ‘Ow dare you follow me about and come spying round corners at me? Wot d’ye mean by it?’

  “I stood there with my arms folded acrost my chest, as calm as a cucumber. The other party stood there watching us, and wot ‘e could ‘ave seen in her, I can’t think. She was dressed more like a man than a woman, and it would have taken the good looks of twenty like her to ‘ave made one barmaid. I stood looking at ‘er like a man in a dream.

  “‘Well, will you know me agin?’ she ses, in a nasty cracked sort of voice.

  “‘I could pick you out of a million,’ I ses— ‘if I wanted to.’

  “‘Clear out!’ ses the skipper. ‘Clear out! And thank your stars there’s a lady present.’

  “‘Don’t take no notice of ‘im, Captain Pratt,’ ses the lady. ‘He’s beneath you. You only encourage people like that by taking notice of ’em. Good-bye.’

  “She held out her ‘and, and while the skipper was shaking it I began to walk back to the wharf. I ‘adn’t gorn far afore I heard ‘im coming up behind me, and next moment ‘e was walking alongside and saying things to try and make me lose my temper.

  “‘Ah, it’s a pity your pore missis can’t ‘ear you!’ I ses. ‘I expect she thinks you are stowed away in your bunk dreaming of ‘er, instead of saying things about a face as don’t belong to you.’

  “‘You mind your bisness,’ he ses, shouting. ‘And not so much about my missis! D’ye hear? Wot’s it got to do with you? Who asked you to shove your oar in?’

  “‘You’re quite mistook,’ I ses, very calm. ‘I’d no idea that there was anything on as shouldn’t be. I was never more surprised in my life. If anybody ‘ad told me, I shouldn’t ‘ave believed ’em. I couldn’t. Knowing you, and knowing ‘ow respectable you ‘ave always purtended to be, and also and likewise that you ain’t no chicken — —’

  “I thought ‘e was going to ‘ave a fit. He ‘opped about, waving his arms and stuttering and going on in such a silly way that I didn’t like to be seen with ‘im. Twice he knocked my ‘at off, and arter telling him wot would ‘appen if ‘e did it agin, I walked off and left him.

  “Even then ‘e wasn’t satisfied, and arter coming on to the wharf and following me up and down like a little dog, he got in front of me and told me some more things he ‘ad thought of.

  “‘If I catch you spying on me agin,’ he ses, ‘you’ll wish you’d never been born!’

  “‘You get aboard and ‘ave a quiet sleep,’ I ses. ‘You’re wandering in your mind.’

  “‘The lady you saw me with,’ he ses, looking at me very fierce, ‘is a friend o’ mine that I meet sometimes for the sake of her talk.’

  “‘Talk!’ I ses, staring at ‘im. ‘Talk! Wot, can’t one woman talk enough for you? Is your missis dumb? or wot?’

  “‘You don’t understand,’ he ses, cocking up ‘is nose at me. ‘She’s a interleckshal woman; full of eddication and information. When my missis talks, she talks about the price o’ things and says she must ‘ave more money. Or else she talks about things I’ve done, or sometimes things I ‘aven’t done. It’s all one to her. There’s no pleasure in that sort o’ talk. It don’t help a man.’

  “‘I never ‘eard of any talk as did,’ I ses.

  “‘I don’t suppose you did,’ he ses, sneering-like. ‘Now, to-night, fust of all, we talked about the House of Lords and whether it ought to be allowed; and arter that she gave me quite a little lecture on insecks.’

  “‘It don’t seem proper to me,’ I ses. ‘I ‘ave spoke to my wife about ’em once or twice, but I should no more think of talking about such things to a single lady — —’

  “He began to jump about agin as if I’d bit ‘im, and he ‘ad so much to say about my ‘ed and blocks of wood that I pretty near lost my temper. I should ha’ lost it with some men, but ‘e was a very stiff-built chap and as hard as nails.

  “‘Beer’s your trouble,’ he ses, at last. ‘Fust of all you put it down, and then it climbs up and soaks wot little brains you’ve got. Wot you want is a kind friend to prevent you from getting it.’

  “I don’t know wot it was, but I ‘ad a sort of sinking feeling inside as ‘e spoke, and next evening, when I saw ‘im walk to the end of the jetty with the office-boy and stand there talking to ‘im with his ‘and on his shoulder, it came on worse than ever. And I put two and two together when the guv’nor came up to me next day, and, arter talking about ‘dooty’ and ‘ow easy it was to get night-watchmen, mentioned in ‘a off-’and sort of way that, if I left the wharf at all between six and six, I could stay away altogether.

  “I didn’t answer ‘im a word. I might ha’ told ‘im that there was plenty of people arter me ready to give me double the money, but I knew he could never get anybody to do their dooty by the wharf like I ‘ad done, so I kept quiet. It’s the way I treat my missis nowadays, and it pays; in the old days I used to waste my breath answering ‘er back.

  “I wouldn’t ha’ minded so much if it ‘adn’t ha’ been for that boy. He used to pass me, as ‘e went off of a evening, with a little sly smile on ‘is ugly little face, and sometimes when I was standing at the gate he’d give a sniff or two and say that he could smell beer, and he supposed it came from the Bear’s Head.

  “It was about three weeks arter the guv’nor ‘ad forgot ‘imself, and I was standing by the gate one evening, when I saw a woman coming along carrying a big bag in her ‘and. I ‘adn’t seen ‘er afore, and when she stopped in front of me and smiled I was on my guard at once. I don’t smile at other people, and I don’t expect them to smile at me.

  “‘At last!’ she ses, setting down ‘er bag and giving me another smile. ‘I thought I was never going to get ‘ere.”

  “I coughed and backed inside a little bit on to my own ground. I didn’t want to ‘ave that little beast of a office-boy spreading tales about me.

  “‘I’ve come up to ‘ave a little fling,’ she ses, smiling away harder than ever. ‘My husband don’t know I’m ‘ere. He thinks I’m at ‘ome.’

  “I think I went back pretty near three yards.

  “‘I come up by train,’ she ses, nodding.

  “‘Yes,’ I ses, very severe, ‘and wot about going back by it?’

  “‘Oh, I shall go back by ship,’ she ses. ‘Wot time do you expect the Eastern Monarch up?’

  “‘Well,’ I ses, ‘ardly knowing wot to make of ‘er, ‘she ought to be up this tide; but there’s no reckoning on wot an old washtub with a engine like a sewing-machine inside ‘er will do.’

  “‘Oh, indeed!’ she ses, leaving off smiling very sudden. ‘Oh, indeed! My husband might ‘ave something to say about that.’

  “‘Your ‘usband?’ I ses.

  “‘Captain Pratt,’ she ses, drawing ‘erself up. ‘I’m Mrs. Pratt. He left yesterday morning, and I’ve come up ‘ere by train to give ‘im a little surprise.’

  “You might ha’ knocked me down with a feather, and I stood there staring at her with my mouth open, trying to think.

  “‘Take care,’ I ses at last. ‘Take care as yo
u don’t give ‘im too much of a surprise!’

  “‘Wot do you mean?’ she ses, firing up.

  “‘Nothing,’ I ses. ‘Nothing, only I’ve known ‘usbands in my time as didn’t like being surprised — that’s all. If you take my advice, you’ll go straight back home agin.’

  “‘I’ll tell ‘im wot you say,’ she ses, ‘as soon as ‘is ship comes in.’

  “That’s a woman all over; the moment they get into a temper they want to hurt somebody; and I made up my mind at once that, if anybody was going to be ‘urt, it wasn’t me. And, besides, I thought it might be for the skipper’s good — in the long run.

  “I broke it to her as gentle as I could. I didn’t tell ‘er much, I just gave her a few ‘ints. Just enough to make her ask for more.

  “‘And mind,’ I ses, ‘I don’t want to be brought into it. If you should ‘appen to take a fancy into your ‘ed to wait behind a pile of empties till the ship comes in, and then slip out and foller your ‘usband and give ‘im the little surprise you spoke of, it’s nothing to do with me.’

  “‘I understand,’ she ses, biting her lip. ‘There’s no need for ‘im to know that I’ve been on the wharf at all.’

  “I gave ‘er a smile — I thought she deserved it — but she didn’t smile back. She was rather a nice-looking woman in the ordinary way, but I could easy see ‘ow temper spoils a woman’s looks. She stood there giving little shivers and looking as if she wanted to bite somebody.

  “‘I’ll go and hide now,’ she ses.

  “‘Not yet,’ I ses. ‘You’ll ‘ave to wait till that little blackbeetle in the office ‘as gorn.’ ‘Blackbeetle?’ she ses, staring.

  “‘Office-boy,’ I ses. ‘He’d better not see you at all. S’pose you go off for a bit and come back when I whistle?’

  “Afore she could answer the boy came out of the office, ready to go ‘ome. He gave a little bit of a start when ‘e saw me talking to a lady, and then ‘e nips down sudden, about a couple o’ yards away, and begins to do ‘is bootlace up. It took ‘im some time, because he ‘ad to undo it fust, but ‘e finished it at last, and arter a quick look at Mrs. Pratt, and one at me that I could ha’ smacked his ‘ed for, ‘e went off whistling and showing ‘is little cuffs.

 

‹ Prev