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diff --git a/18510-h/18510-h.htm b/18510-h/18510-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..83b9c84 --- /dev/null +++ b/18510-h/18510-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6341 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Chequers by James Runciman + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + ul {list-style-type: none;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .sf {font-size: small;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .ralign { position: absolute; right: 15%; text-align: right; } + + ins.correction { + text-decoration:none; /* replace default underline.. */ + border-bottom: thin dotted gray; /* ..with delicate gray line */ + } + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Chequers, by James Runciman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Chequers + Being the Natural History of a Public-House, Set Forth in + a Loafer's Diary + +Author: James Runciman + +Release Date: June 5, 2006 [EBook #18510] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHEQUERS *** + + + + +Produced by Steven Gibbs, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE CHEQUERS:<br /> +<span class="sf">BEING THE</span></h1> +<h2>Natural History of a Public-house,<br /><br /> +<span class="sf">SET FORTH IN</span><br /><br /> +<i>A LOAFER'S DIARY</i>.</h2> + +<h3 class="sf">EDITED BY</h3> + +<h2>JAMES RUNCIMAN,<br /> +<span class="sf">AUTHOR OF "SKIPPERS AND SHELLBACKS," ETC.</span><br /><br /></h2> + +<h3>London:<br /> + +WARD AND DOWNEY,<br /> + +12, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.<br /> + +<span class="sf">[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]</span></h3> + +<hr /> +<h2>Dedication.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sf">TO</span><br /> +PHILIP WOOD AND JOHN WOOD,<br /> +<span class="sf">OF</span><br /> +SOUTH SHIELDS.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>,—This record of ruined lives is inscribed +to you, for it is mainly owing to you that I have gained +such gruesome experience. From the day when, as a +boy of seventeen, I formed my connection with your +honourable house, I have owed my professional success +to your culture, your generosity, and your admirable +relations with the police force. My Sovereign and many +other people have been pleased to approve my strange +labours; but my chief distinction in life arises from my +being your relative. With feelings which I cannot +describe,</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 40%;">I remain,</p> +<p style="margin-left: 50%;">Your obliged and grateful,</p> +<p class="ralign">JAMES RUNCIMAN.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%; margin-top: 4em" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<ul><li><span class="ralign smcap">Page</span><br /></li> + +<li><a href="#INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#THE_WANDERER">THE WANDERER</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#THE_PINK_TOM_CAT">THE PINK TOM CAT</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#TEDDY">TEDDY</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#THE_WANDERER_AGAIN">THE WANDERER AGAIN</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#THE_ROBBERY">THE ROBBERY</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#ONE_OF_OUR_ENTERTAINMENTS">ONE OF OUR ENTERTAINMENTS</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#MERRY_JERRY_AND_HIS_FRIENDS">MERRY JERRY AND HIS FRIENDS</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#THE_GENTLEMAN_THE_DOCTOR_AND_DICKY">THE GENTLEMAN, THE DOCTOR, AND DICKY</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#POACHERS_AND_NIGHTBIRDS">POACHERS AND NIGHTBIRDS</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#JIM_BILLINGS">JIM BILLINGS</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#OUR_PARLOUR_COMPANY">OUR PARLOUR COMPANY</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#A_QUEER_CHRISTMAS">A QUEER CHRISTMAS</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></span></li> + +<li><a href="#JACK_BROWN">JACK BROWN</a><span class="ralign"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></span></li> +</ul> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h1>THE CHEQUERS.</h1> + +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION.</h2> + +<p>It is risky to go home with some of the company +from the Chequers, for good-fellowship is by no +means fostered in the atmosphere of a public-house. +The creatures who write about the cheerful glass, +and the jovial evening, and the drink that mellows +the heart, know nothing of the sad work that goes +on in a boozing-place, while the persons who draw +wild pictures of impossible horrors are worse than +the hired men who write in publican's papers. It +is the plain truth that is wanted, and one year of +life in a public-house teaches a man more than all +the strained lectures and colourless statistics. I +am going to give a series of pictures that will set +forth every phase of public-house life. It is useless +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>to step casually into a bar, and then turn out a flashy +article. If you want to know how Drink really acts +on the inner life of this nation you must actually +live among the forlorn folk who drink Circe's draught, +and you must live as their equal, their friend, their +confidant. I am a Loafer, and not one of the gang +at The Chequers would ever dream of regarding me +as anything but an equal. My friend Donkey Perkins, +the fighting man, curses me with perfect affability +and I am on easy terms with about one hundred +costermongers. If a "gentleman" went among them +he could learn nothing. Observe the hush that falls +on the babble of a tap-room if any well-dressed +person goes in; listen to the hum of warning, and +then notice the laboured hypocrisy of the talk that +goes on so long as the stranger is there. I have +seen that odd change scores of times, and I know +that nothing can be more curious than the contrast +between the scrappy, harmless chat that goes on +while the representative of respectability is there, +and the stupid, frank brutalities which the advent +of the visitor silenced.</p> + +<p>At nights I go home with one after another of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>my set, and at merry seasons we stay together till +early morning. They throw off all disguise before +me, and even the thieves are not afraid. When once +you are on level terms with the community you begin +to see what is the true result of drink. The clergyman, +the district visitor, the professional slummer—all +the people who "patronise"—never learn the truth, +and they positively invite the wastrel classes to +lie.</p> + +<p>Some time ago I read some "revelations" which +made a great stir in the country. The writer was +accused of publishing obscenities, but what struck me +most in his work was its absolute display of ignorance. +The poor, innocent man had listened to stories which +were told in the dialect that is used to impress outsiders, +and I laughed as I seemed to hear the very +tones of some shady gentry of my own acquaintance. +The unhappy vendor of revelations went among +his subjects of study for six weeks, and then set +up as an authority. Of course, the acute, sleazy dogs +whom he questioned kept back everything that was +essential, and filled their victim's mind with concoctions +which amused professional blackguards for a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>month. Could that literary adventurer only have +heard the criticism which daily met my ear, he would +have found that many eager souls were longing for a +chance to plunder such an obvious "mug." Another +writer, whose works appear in a morning journal, +professes to make flying visits to various queer +places, and his articles are published as facts; but I +had the chance of testing the truth of two tales +which dealt with official business, and I found that +these two were false from end to end. Not only +were they false, but they illustrate nothing, for +the writer did not know the conditions of the life +which he pretended to describe, and his fiction +misled many thousands. Experience, then—sordid, +miserable, long experience—is needed before anyone +can speak the truth concerning the life of what +Carlyle called "the scoundrel classes." The same +experience only can teach you anything about the +poor. The scoundrels do not actually confide in +anybody, and I never yet knew one of them who +would not turn on a confederate; but they exhibit +themselves freely before people to whom they have +become used. It unfortunately happens that the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>scoundrels and the dissolute poor are much thrown +together. A man may be a hopeless drunkard without +being a rascal, but the rascals and the boozers +are generally taken in the lump by persons of a +descriptive turn of mind. That is faulty natural history. +The chances are always ten to one in favour +of the boozer's becoming a criminal; but we must +distinguish between those who have taken the last +bad step and those who are merely qualifying. And +now for our history.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_WANDERER" id="THE_WANDERER"></a>THE WANDERER.</h2> + +<p>The bar was very much crowded last night, and +the air was impregnated to choking point with +smoke and evil exhalations. The noisy times on +Saturdays come at 2 p.m., and from ten till closing +time. In the afternoon a few labourers fuddle +themselves before they go home to dinner, and there +is a good deal of slavering incoherence to be heard. +From seven to eight in the evening the men drop in, +and a vague murmur begins; the murmur grows +louder and more confused as time passes, and by ten +o'clock our company are in full cry, and all the pipes +are in full blast. When I stole quietly in, I thought +the scene was hideous enough in its dull way. The +gas flared with drowsy refulgence through the reek, +and the low masks of the roaring crew somehow left +on me an impression that I was gazing on <i>one</i> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>bestial, distorted face. A man who is a racecourse +thief and "ramper" hailed me affably. A beast of +prey he is, if ever there was one. His hatchet face +with its piggish eyes, his thin, cruel lips, his square +jaw, are all murderous, and, indeed, I cannot help +thinking that he will commit a murder some day. +When he is in his affable mood he is very loathsome, +but I cannot afford to loathe anyone, and we smile +and smile, though we dislike each other, and though +the Ramper hardly knows what to make of me. +When I first made his acquaintance we were on our +way to a race meeting, and he proposed to give me +his company. Like all of his class, he knew many +"certainties," and he offered, with engaging frankness, +to put me in the way of "gittin' a bit." The +racing blackguard never talks of money; indeed, his +obliquity of mind prevents him from calling anything +by its right name. For him the world is divided +between those who "have got it"—<i>it</i> being money—and +those who mean to "get a bit" by any means, +fair or foul. On that day, long ago, this creature +fancied that I had some money, and he was determined, +to rob me somehow. I let him imagine that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>he was leading me on, for there is no luxury that I +enjoy more than watching a low, cunning rogue when +he thinks he is arranging a successful swindle. I was +introduced to a thoroughly safe man. The safe man's +face was almost as villanous as that of my mentor, +and his manners were, perhaps, a little more offensive. +Our first bet closed all transactions between us; as I +fully expected, I obtained a ridiculously liberal price, +and I <i>won</i>. On my proposing a settlement, the +capitalist glared virtuously and yelled with passion—which +was also what I expected. Then came my +mentor, and softly remarked, "Don't go and queer +his pitch. Here's a lot on 'em a-comin', and they'll +be all over you if you say a word. Wait till he gits a +bit and he'll pay." This was also what I expected. +We happened to be in an enclosed ground, so I +managed to keep my eye on the capitalist, and the +unhappy being vainly strove to dodge away. Catching +him in the act of sneaking through the turnstile, I +touched him gently, and then beckoned to a +policeman. No welsher can hope for admission to +one of the enclosed courses after he is once fairly +caught, and my victim whimpered, "Come in yere +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>and 'ave a drink." Then he said, "Look yere, I +ain't got a bloomin' 'alf dollar but what I 'ad off o' +you. I walked down this mornin', and hadn't only +the gate-money, and your pal laid me on to you. +Say nothin' this time. I ain't had no grub to-day. +Give us a chance. 'Twas your pal as put me on, +mind. Brandy cold, if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>The ineffable impudence of the capitalist's request +made it hard for me to keep from laughing; I let him +go, and I fear that he and the Ramper made further +attempts on the idiots who throng the Silver +Ring.</p> + +<p>That same evening Mr. Ramper made his last effort +to practise on me. We were straddling among a +sporting group in The Chequers bar, when he said, +"Better settle over Dexter." "Dexter? What +about Dexter?" "Didn't you take Dexter agin' +Folly?" "Not such a mug." Then the hound raised +his voice in the fashion of his tribe. "You goin' to +welsh me, are you? You don't mean to pay that ten +bob? I'll 'ave it out of your bloomin' liver!" All +this was uttered in a yell which was intended to draw +attention, and the creak of the brute's voice made me +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>inclined to dash my fist in his vile face. But I only +grinned and said "What a poor liar you are."</p> + +<p>The more the Ramper screeched, the more I +laughed; he durst not strike, and at last, when I +reminded him that he had already divided a little +plunder with the capitalist, he grumbled a curse or +two and lapsed into affability. You cannot shame one +of these beings, and the Ramper is now on the most +confidential terms with me. I am very glad we did +not fight, because he introduced me to one of the most +interesting and estimable of all my acquaintances. +Said the Ramper, blowing his sickly breath into my +very ear, "There's a bloke yere as knows suthin' good +for Lincoln. Up in the corner there. Let's sit +down." Within a minute I found myself talking to +<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Image has 'a a'">a</ins> queer, battered man, who bent moodily over his +glass of gin and stole furtive glances at me with +bleared, sullen eyes. His blood was charged with +bile, and he could not prevent the sudden muscular +twitchings of his hands. His knuckles were swollen, +and his fingers were twisted slightly. Evidently he +was diseased to the very bone through alcoholic +excesses. He was dressed in a shiny overcoat, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>his bony shanks threatened to pierce his trousers. +When he pushed back his rakish greasy hat, he +showed a remarkably fine forehead—well filled, strong, +square—but he had the weakest and most sensual +mouth I ever saw. There was scarcely a sign of a +lower jaw, and the chin retreated sharply from the lip +to the emaciated neck.</p> + +<p>My man spoke with a deep voice that contrasted +oddly with his air of debility, and I noticed that he +not only had a good accent, but his words were uttered +with a deliberate attempt at formal and polished +elocution. We talked of horse-racing, and he +mouthed out one speech after another with a balanced +kind of see-saw, which again and again ran into blank +verse. I said, "You have something good for +Lincoln, I hear. Any chance of being on?" He +replied, "I heed no fairy tales or boasting yarns. +When a man says he has a certainty, I tell him to his +face that he's a liar. The ways of chance are far +beyond our ken, and I can but say that I try. Information +I have. From Newmarket I receive daily +messages, and I have as much chance of being right +as other men have; but you know what the Bard +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>says. Ah! what a student of human nature that man +was! What an intellect! In apprehension how like +a god! You know what he says of prophecy and +chance? I only fire a bolt at a venture, and if my +venture don't come off, then I say, 'Pay up and look +pleasant.'"</p> + +<p>The majestic roll of his speech was very funny, and +he poured forth his resonant periods as though I had +been standing at a distance of twenty yards. As the +gin stirred his sluggish blood he became more and more +declamatory, and when at last he fairly yelled, "I am +a gambler. I could not brook life if I had no excitement. +It is my very blood. Yet, think not my +words are false as dicers' oaths," and waved his right +hand with a lordly gesture, I thought, "An old actor, +for certain." So long as his senses remained he talked +shrewdly about betting, and his remarks were free +from the mingled superstition and rascality which +make ordinary racing talk so odious; but when he +began to drink rapidly he soon became violent, and +finished by carrying on like a madman. He shouted +passages from "Hamlet" and "Coriolanus" with +ear-splitting fervour, and at last he drew a universal +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>protest from the rest of our crew, who are certainly +not sensitive. Then his yell grew maudlin. "Why +did God make me thus? Why do I grunt and sweat +under the burden of a weary life? Give me, ah, give +me the days that are gone!" Then he fell alongside of +the bench, and presently his long, gurgling snore +sounded fitfully. "Let him sweat there till closing +time; he'll be quiet enough," said Mr. Landlord; +and sure enough the orator lay until the hour had +struck. He shivered when he rose, and his knees +were like to fail him. "Heavens! what a mouth I've +got!" he moaned, and I could see that the deadly, +bitter fur had already covered his palate. "Take a +flask home, Billy, and pull yourself together when you +turn in." Billy grabbed fiercely at the air. "These +infernal flies have started early." The specks were +dancing before his eyes, and I fancy he had an +ugly night before him; but I didn't see him +home.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Thursday</span>.—I have found out a good deal about my +stagy friend, and we are quite confidential, especially +late at night. He weeps plenteously and recalls his +own sins, but I think he is fairly truthful. A moving, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>sordid history is his. Moralising is waste of time, +but one might almost moralise to the extent of boredom +concerning the life of Billy Devine, boozer, actor, +betting-man.</p> + +<p>Devine's peculiarly grandiose mode of telling his +story was rather effective at first hearing, but it would +read like a burlesque, so I translate his narrative into +my own dialect. He was a quick, clever lad, and the +culture bestowed in a genteel academy was too narrow +for him. He read a great deal of romance, and still +more poetry. He neglected his school lessons, and +he was dismissed after a few years as an incurable +scamp.</p> + +<p>No sort of steady work suited Devine; his fatal +lack of will was supplemented by an eager vanity, and +he was only happy when he was attracting notice. +Now that he is matured, he is gratified if he can make +drunken costermongers stare, so he must have been +a very forward creature when his conceit was in full +blossom. He began by spouting little recitations, and +gradually practised until he could take his part in +amateur stage performances. As he put it, "I <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Image has 'found the'">found +that the</ins> majesty of Coriolanus and the humour of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>Paul Pry were alike within my compass, and I impartially +included both these celebrated parts in my +<i>répertoire</i>." Nothing ever diverts a stage-struck +youth from his fell purpose unless he is absolutely +pelted off the boards. Devine loathed his office; he +hated the sight of a business letter, and he finally +appeared in a wretched provincial booth, where he +earned seven shillings per week in good times: the +restraints of respectability were to hamper him no +more. Through all his miserable wanderings I +tracked him, for he kept playbills, and each bill suggested +some quaint or sordid memory. I felt +something like a lump in my throat when he said, +"Now, dear friend, at this place I played once the +'The Stranger' and 'The Idiot Witness,' and for two +days my comrade and I had nothing to eat. On one +eventful night we saw some refuse fish being wheeled +off in a barrow, and we begged leave to abstract a fish, +which was—I say it without fear of contradiction—the +knobbiest and scaliest member of the finny tribe. +Sir, we tried to skin this animal and failed. Then we +scraped him, and the moving question arose, What +about fire? Luckily the landlady had left a lamp on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>the stairs. My inventive faculties were bestirred. +The <span class="smcap">Lamp</span>! No sooner said than the fish was placed +on the fire-shovel, and we then took turns to move the +shovel backwards and forwards over the lamp. Regardless +of that woman's loud inquiries about the +smell, which was in truth, sir, very overpowering, +we pursued our joint labours until two in the morning, +and <ins class="correction" title="Original has: 'the nthe'">then the</ins> brute was only <i>half</i> raw. One +penknife was our sole cutlery; but we managed +to cut through the skin, and we devoured the oily stuff +like famished hounds, sir. We were ashamed; but, +as the poet truly observes, 'Necessity knows no law,' +and we endured the scurrilous language of the woman +when, on the morrow, she found the bottom of the +shovel encrusted with dirt and the top thickly coated +with grease. That fish saved us, sir."</p> + +<p>Little by little Devine worked his way towards +London, and at length he appeared in a West-end +theatre. His reminiscences of the stars are impressive, +but we need not deal with them; it is enough +to say that he was successful—and in light comedy no +less. About this time he began to have his photograph +taken very frequently, and the portraits made +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>me feel sad. This dull, sodden man was once a +handsome fellow, alert, well poised, brave and cheerful. +The profile which I saw in the photographs somehow +made me think of an arrow-head on the upward flight; +that, lower jaw, which is now so flabby and slobbery +was once well rounded, and the weakness was not unpleasantly +evident. I often wonder that human vanity +has not done away with alcoholism. Men are vain +animals, yet a good-looking fellow, who could never +pass a mirror without stealing a quiet look, will cheerfully +go on drugging himself until every feature is +transformed. I have seen the process of facial degradation +carried through in so many cases that I can tell +within a little how long a man has been a drinker, and +that with no other guide than the standard of graduated +depravity which is in my mind, and which I instinctively +consult. Devine must have been attractive +to women, for they certainly did their best to spoil +him, if one may judge by the collection of faded notes +which he retains. He met his fate at last. A pretty, +sentimental girl fell in love with him, and pressed +him to make an appointment with her, so the dashing +young actor arranged to meet the love-stricken damsel +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>at Hampton Court. The flowers of the chestnuts +were splendid, and the spirit of May was in the air. +"I seem to see the same sunshine and the same +flowers very often, even when I'm too jumpy to know +what is going on all round," said the poor, battered +man. The girl sobbed and trembled. "I couldn't +help it; I had to meet you, and, Oh, if father knew, +I believe he'd beat me." Devine found out that +the lady was the daughter of a very rich tradesman, +and he was not by any means displeased, for +romantic actors have just as keen an eye to business +as other folk. Before the pleasant afternoon closed, +he had gained permission to call the truant Letty, and +she primmed her rosy lips as he taught her to say +Will. Decidedly Mr. Devine was no laggard in +love.</p> + +<p>Indiscreet little Letty found means to steal away +from home time after time, and her stock of fibs must +have been varied and extensive, for three months +passed before the inevitable catastrophe came.</p> + +<p>"This is Aunt Lizer, is it?"</p> + +<p>Devine and Miss Letty were walking in a secluded +corner of Wimbledon Common when a loud voice +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>spoke thus. Letty screamed, and turned to face a +stout, red-faced man who stood glaring ominously.</p> + +<p>Devine, after the approved stage fashion, said +"May I ask the meaning of this intrusion?"</p> + +<p>"Meanin'! You talk about meanin' to John +Billiter? See this stick? I'll meanin' you! This is +my daughter, and I'll thank you to tell me who <i>you</i> +are." Need I say that Devine rose to the occasion? +He recited to me a portion of the reply which he +made to the aggrieved parent, and I can fully believe +that that worthy man was surprised. "The Rivals," +"The Hunchback," "Romeo and Juliet," and other +dramatic works were ransacked for phrases, and the +stately periods flowed on until Mr. Billiter gasped, +"Damn it, gal!—do you mean to say you've deceived +your father so you might git out along of a blanked +lunatic?" This was too much. Devine observed +with majesty, "Sir, I can pardon much to the father +of the lady whom I love; but there are limits, sir. +Beware!"</p> + +<p>"You come along to the trap, you hussy; and as for +you mister, let me ketch you anywhere near our place +and I'll turn the yard dog out on you!"</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> +<p>Poor Letty was severely shut up at home. Her +father questioned her much, and when he heard at +length that the flashy young man was an actor, he +gave one choking yell, and sat down in limp fashion. +All the rest of the day he muttered at intervals, "A +hactor!" and pressed his hand to his forehead with +many groans. At night he went into Letty's room, +and as he gazed on the girl's worn face he said, "A +hactor! The Billiters is done for. Their goose is +cooked!"</p> + +<p>Devine fairly luxuriated in his desolation. I could +tell from his mode of dwelling on his woes that he had +keenly enjoyed playing the forlorn lover. As he told +me of those sleepless nights spent long ago, and rolled +out his sonorous record of suffering, his watering eye +gleamed with pleasure, and I can well imagine how +sorely he bored his friends when he was young and +his grief was at its most enjoyable height. But he +was no milksop, and he resolved that Mr. Billiter +should not baulk him. Where is the actor who does +not delight in stratagems and mysteries? Bless their +honest hearts, they could not endure life without an +occasional plot or mystification! Two months after +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>Letty's incarceration, a decently-dressed man called +at Mr. Billiter's with a parcel. The visitor was clad +in tweed; his smart whiskers were dexterously trained +and he looked like a natty draper's assistant. "These +things were ordered by post, and I wish Miss Billiter +to select her own patterns."</p> + +<p>"Miss Billiter's with her aunt, and she don't see +anyone at present."</p> + +<p>"Then kindly hand in the parcel, and I will call +in an hour."</p> + +<p>That night Letty was restless. The sly little thing +had <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'manage'">managed</ins> to deceive her aunt; but the problem of +how to elude father was troublesome.</p> + +<p>William had an American engagement; he would +have a fast horse ready next evening at eight; Mr. +Billiter would be summoned by a telegram; then +train to Southampton—licence—the mail to New +York, and bliss for ever! Letty must rush out like a +truant schoolgirl—never mind about hat or cloak; the +escape <i>must</i> be made, and then let those catch who +can.</p> + +<p>This was Devine's plan, and he carried it out with +perfect nerve. A fortnight afterwards the mail steamer +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>was surging along in mid-Atlantic, and the plucky +actor was passing happy, idle days with his wife.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Billy had the nerve of a man once, but he utters a +kind of strangled shriek now if a dog barks close to +him, and he cannot lift his glass in the mornings—he +stoops to the counter and sucks his first mouthfuls like a +horse drinking, or he passes his handkerchief round his +neck, and draws his liquor gently up with the handkerchief +to steady him. A long way has Billy travelled +since he was a merry young player. I shall +say more about him presently.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_PINK_TOM_CAT" id="THE_PINK_TOM_CAT"></a>THE PINK TOM CAT.</h2> + +<p>My friend the publisher calls the Loafer's narratives +"thrilling," but I, as editor of the Diaries, +would prefer another adjective. The Loafer was a +man who only cared for gloom and squalor after he +had given up the world of gaiety and refinement. +Men of his stamp, when they receive a crushing +mental blow, always shrink away like wounded +animals and forsake their companions. A very distinguished +man, who is now living, disappeared for +fifteen years, and chose on his return to be regarded +as an utter stranger. His former self had died, and +he was strengthened and embittered by suffering. +The Loafer was of that breed.</p> + +<p>Two locked volumes of the Loafer's Diary were +delivered to me, and I found that the man had once +been joyous to the last degree, ambitious, successful, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>and full of generous thoughts and fine aspirations. +Some of his songs breathe the very spirit of delight, +and he wrote his glad thoughts at night when he +could not sleep for the keen pleasure of living. Then +comes a sudden cloud, and from that time onward the +Diary is bitter, brutal, and baldly descriptive of life's +abominations. It would not become me to speak with +certainty, but I fancy that a woman had something to +do with the Loafer's wild and reckless change. He is +reticent, but his poems all point in one direction. +Here is a grave note of passion:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sombre heather framed you round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The starlight touched your pallid face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You moved across the silvered ground—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The night was happy with your grace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The air was steeped in silver fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gorse was touched with silvern sheen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The nightingales—the holy choir—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sang bridal songs for you, my queen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But songs and starfire, pomp of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Murmur of trees and Ocean's roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were poor beside the blind delight—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Love that quivered in my soul.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Further on there is a single brief verse like a cry of +rage and despair:—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And is it then the End of all?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O, Father! What a doom is mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An unreturning prodigal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who feeds on husks and herds with swine!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After many ravings the torn soul seems to grow +calm, and we have this pensive and tender fragment +of music:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The dreams that fill the thoughtful night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All holy dreams are in the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stoop to me with viewless flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bid me wave my care good-bye.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Spread your dim wings, O sacred friends,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fleet softly to your starry place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll meet you as my journey ends,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When I shall crave our Master's grace.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Till I may join your shadowy band<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll think of things that are to be—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The far-off joy, the Unseen Land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Lover I shall never see.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After this our man plunges into the slums, and we +have no more poetry. One who loved him asked me +to go through his journals, and nearly all I know of +him is derived from them. By chance I have heard +that he was passionately fond of children, but avoided +women. One who knew him said that he was witty, +and often strung off epigrams by the hour together, +but he was always subject to fits of blind frenzy, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>during which his wit and his genuine sagacity left +him. No one followed him to his grave; but he was +visited in hospital by a tall, fair lady, who gazed on +him with stern composure. He sneered even while +dying. "I'm a pretty object, am I not? I was +going to shake the world. Will you kiss me once?"</p> + +<p>The tall lady stooped and kissed him; he gasped, +"Thank you. It was more than I deserved. And +now for the Dark."</p> + +<p>The lady sighed a little and went away, and I think +that a bunch of heather which lay on the coffin must +have come from her. Anyway, that is all I know +about the Loafer, and he may now tell his story of the +Pink Tom Cat in his own way. You observe how +drily circumstantial he is.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I shall not be able to go on with Billy Devine's +story for some time. We have had an ugly business +here, and it is now two months since I wrote a line. +It was only by making special inquiry that I found +how time had gone, for I have been living in a nightmare.</p> + +<p>One fine morning I put on smart flannels and went +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>for a scull on the river. If ever you drink too much +it is best to force yourself into violent exercise at any +cost, and for that reason I determined to row until the +effects of a very bad night had worn off. Usually I +keep myself clear of after consequences, but I had +been with a keen set, and we did not go to bed at all. +When we contrived to separate at 7 a.m., some of my +companions began on a fresh day's drinking, but I +chose to take a rest.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely morning, and I felt like a bad sort +of criminal amid the clear, splendid beauty. When +the light wind struck across the surface of the river it +seemed as if the water were pelted with falling jewels; +the osiers bowed and sighed as the breeze ran along +their tops; and, here and there, a spirt of shaken +dewdrops described a flashing arc, and fell poppling +into the stream. Ah! how solemnly glad and pure +and radiant the great trees looked! The larks had +gone wild with the joy of living, and their delicious +rivalry, their ceaseless gurgle of liquid melody, seemed +somehow to match the multitudinous glitter of the +mighty clouds of foliage. For a man with pure palate +and healthy eye the sights and sounds would have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>made a heaven; but my mouth was like a furnace, +and my eye was fevered. Nevertheless, I managed to +enjoy the sweet panorama more and more as my +muscles grew tense, and I pulled on doggedly for full +three hours, until I had not a dry stitch on me; then +a funny little waterside inn drew my eye, and I went +ashore. Bob Darbishire met me with a shout of +welcome, and I wondered what brought him there. +Bob did not often visit The Chequers, for he was a +wealthy fellow, and he liked best to fool his time away +in flash billiard-rooms; but he knew me well enough, +and I was on as easy terms with him as with the +costers and Rommany chals. I say <i>was</i> when I speak +of him. Ah me!</p> + +<p>Bob succeeded to a great deal of ready money and +a good business when he was barely twenty-one, and +he broke out into a rackety life at once, for he had +been hard held in by his father and mother, and his +mad activities craved for some vent. Had he been +well guided he would have become a useful citizen, +but he was driven with a cruel bit, and the reins were +savagely jerked whenever he seemed restive. When +he once was free, he set off at a wild rate down the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>steep that leads to perdition, and plenty of people +cheered him as he flew on. It vexed me often to see +a fine, generous lad surrounded by spongers who +rooked him at every turn; but what could one do? +The sponger has no mercy and no manliness; he is +always a person with violent appetites, and he will +procure excitement at the cost of his manliness and +even of his honesty. Bob had an open hand, and +thought nothing of paying for twenty brandies-and-sodas +in the course of a morning. Twenty times +eightpence does not seem much, but if you keep up +that average daily for a year you have spent a fair +income. No one ever tried to stay this prodigal with +a word of advice; indeed, in such cases advice is +always useless, for the very man whom you may seek +to save is exceedingly likely to swear, or even to +strike at you. He thinks you impugn his wisdom and +sharpness, and he loves, above all things, to be +regarded as an acute fellow. A few favoured gentry +almost lived on Bob, and scores of outsiders had +pretty pickings when he was in a lavish humour, +which was nearly every day. He betted on races, and +lost; he played billiards, and lost; he ran fox terriers, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>and lost; he played Nap for hours at a stretch, and +generally lost. He was only successful in games that +required strength and daring. Then, of course, he +must needs emulate the true sporting men in amorous +achievements, and thus his income bore the drain of +some two or three little establishments. Bob would +always try to drink twice as much as any other man, +and he treated himself with the same liberality in the +matter of ex-barmaids and chorus girls. The Wicked +Nobleman was a somewhat reckless character in his +way, but his feats would not bear comparison with +those performed by many and many a young fellow +who belongs to the wealthy middle class. Alas! for +that splendid middle class which once represented all +that was sober and steady and trustworthy in Britain! +Go into any smart billiard-room nowadays, or make +a round of the various race meetings, and you +will see something to make you sad. You see +one vast precession of Rakes making their mad +Progress.</p> + +<p>Bob was always kindly with me, as, indeed, he was +with everybody<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Image has ','">.</ins> The very bookmakers scarcely had +the heart to offer him false prices, and only the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>public-house spongers gave him no law. But, then +the sponger spares nobody. On this memorable +morning the lad was rigged in orthodox flannels, and +he looked ruddy and well, but the ruddiness was not +quite of the right sort. He had begun drinking +early, and his eye had that incipient gloss which +always appears about the time when the one pleasurable +moment of drunkenness has come. There is +but one pleasant moment in a drinking bout, and +men make themselves stupid by trying to make that +fleeting moment permanent. Bob cried, "Come on, +sonny. Oh! what would I give for your thirst! +Mine's gone! I'm three parts copped already. Come +on. Soda, is it?"</p> + +<p>Then, with the usual crass idiocy of our tribe, we +proceeded to swallow oblivion by the tumbler until +the afternoon was nearly gone. I felt damp and cold +and sticky, so I said I should scull home and change +my clothes. Then Darbishire yelled with spluttering +cordiality, "Home! Not if I know it! My togs +just fit you. Go and have a bath, and we'll shove +you in the next room to mine. I'm on the rampage, +and Joe Coney's coming to-night. You've got nothing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>to do. Have it out with us. Blow me! we'll have a +week—we'll have a fortnight—we'll have a month."</p> + +<p>I wish I had never taken part in that rampage.</p> + +<p>Towards eight o'clock we both felt the false +craving for food which is produced by alcohol, and we +clamoured for dinner. Dinner under such circumstances +produces a delusive feeling of sobriety, and +men think that they have killed the alcohol; but the +stuff is still there, and every molecule of it is ready, +as it were, to explode and fly through the blood when +a fresh draught is added. At eleven o'clock we were +at cards with Mr. Coney. At one we went out to +admire the moon, and though one of us saw two +moons, he felt a dull pain at the heart as he remembered +days long ago, when the pale splendour brought +gladness. When we had solemnly decided that it +was a fine night, we went back to our reeking room +again, and pursued our conversation on the principle +that each man should select his own subject and try +to howl down the other two. This exercise soon +palled on us, and one by one we sank to sleep. The +clear light was pouring in when I woke, but the very +sight of the straight beams made me doleful. When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +a man is in training, that gush of brightness makes +him joyous; but a night with the fiend poisons the +light, the air, the soul. Bob lay on the floor under +the full glare of the window. What a fine fellow he +was! His chest bulged strongly under his fleecy +sweater; his neck was round and muscular, and every +limb of him seemed compact and hard. His curls +were all dishevelled, and his face was miserably puffy, +but he had not had time to become bloated. No +wonder that girls liked him.</p> + +<p>Presently we were all awake, and a more wretched +company could not very well be found. Novelists +talk about "a debauch" in a way that makes novices +think debauchery has something grand and mysterious +about it. "We must have orgies; it's the proper +thing," says Tom Sawyer the delightful. The raw lad +finds "debauches" mentioned with majestic melancholy, +and he naturally fancies that, although a +debauch may be wicked, it is neither nasty nor contemptible. +Why cannot some good man tell the +sordid truth? I suppose he would be accused of +Zolaism, but he would frighten away many a nice lad +from the wrong road. Let any youngster who reads<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +this try to remember his worst sick headache; let +him (if he has been to sea) remember that moment +when he longed for someone to come and throw him +overboard; let him then imagine that he has committed +a deadly crime; let him also fancy what he +would feel if he knew that some awful irreparable +calamity must inevitably fall on him within an hour. +Then he will understand that state of mind and body +which makes men loathe beauty, loathe goodness, +loathe life; then he will understand what jolly fellows +endure.</p> + +<p>We glowered glassily on each other, and we were +quite ready either to quarrel or to shed tears on the +faintest provocation. Presently Bob laughed in a +forced way, and said, "God, what a head! Let's +come out. Those yellow shades make me bilious." +The glory of full day flooded the lovely banks, but the +light pained our eyes, and we sought refuge in the +cool, dim shades of the parlour. Our conversation +was exactly like that of passengers on board ship +when they are just about to collapse. The minutes +seemed like hours; our limbs were listless, as if we +had been beaten into helplessness. So passed one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +doleful hour. I mentioned breakfast, and Bob shuddered, +while Coney rushed from the room. What a +pleasant thing is a jovial night!</p> + +<p>"Let's see if we can manage some champagne," +said Darbishire, and the "merry" three were soon +mournfully gazing on a costly magnum. Sip by sip +we contrived to drink a glass each; then the false +thirst woke, the nausea departed, and we were started +again for the day.</p> + +<p>I persisted in taking violent exercise, but Darbishire +seemed to have lost all his muscular aptitudes, and +although I implored him to exert himself, he sank +into a lethargy that was only varied by mad fits, +during which he performed the freaks of a lunatic. +After the sixth day's drinking I proposed to go away. +Bob looked queerly at me, and said in a whisper, +"Don't you try it on! See that!" and he showed +me a little Derringer. I laughed; but I was not +really amused. You always notice that, when a man +is about to go wrong, he thinks of killing those whom +he likes best. That night Bob's hands flew asunder +with a jerk while we were playing cards; the cards +flew about; then he flung a decanter violently into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +the fireplace, and sat down trembling and glaring. +I sprang to his side, and found that the sweat was +running down his neck. I pulled off his shoes—his +socks were drenched! I said, "I thought you'd get +them, old fellow. Now, have some beef-tea, and I'll +send right away for a sleeping draught." Bob +trembled still more.</p> + +<p>"No beef-tea. I've had nothing these three days, +as you know. It would kill me to swallow." Then +he said, in a horrible whisper, "The brute's coming +down the chimney again. There's a paw! Now his +head! Now's a chance! Yah! you pink devil, that's +got you! Three days you've been coming, and now +you're cheeky. Yeo, ho! That's done him." Then +he flung a second decanter, and sank down once more +with a shriek.</p> + +<p>"I'll have a drink on that!" he screamed; and I +let him take a full glass of spirits, for I wanted to +secure the Derringer. The drink appeared to paralyse +him, and I slipped down to the landlord's room. The +worthy man took things very coolly; none of his +trade ever like to see a man drunk, but they +become hardened to it in time, and talk about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +delirium tremens as if it were measles. Here is the +dialogue.</p> + +<p>"Bob's queer."</p> + +<p>"I thought so. He's had 'em once before. He +must be careful, but you can't stop him."</p> + +<p>"I must have help. I could drown myself when I +think that I've perhaps encouraged him."</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry yourself. He'd have been a +million times worse if you'd not been about. He sits +with the watchmen and all sorts of tow-rags then."</p> + +<p>"We must get him home somehow."</p> + +<p>The landlord fairly shouted: "Home! anything +but that! Not that I want to keep him, but we must +have him right first. There's his mother, what could +she do?" Then, dropping his voice, the shrewd +fellow said, "You see, it would nearly pay me to be +without his custom, for I'm in the old lady's hands. +Fact is, they've engaged him to a swell girl, and she's +awful spoons on him, for there ain't nobody so nice +and hearty as he is when he's square. He's fond of +her, too, but she wants to <i>reclaim</i> him, don't you +know, and he kinder kicks. So he says when he +came, "I'm going to be out of apron-strings for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +a bit," and I don't want him to go near home till he's +fit to meet the lady. She's a screamer, she is—a +real swell; and she'd go off her head if she saw him +with 'em on. I'll tell you what we'll do. I've got +one bromide of potass draught. We'll get that into +him somehow, and in the morning we may manage to +feed him. During the day we'll get some more stuff +from the doctor, and patch him up ready for home +I don't care to see him again, for there's no stopping +him."</p> + +<p>When I went up to our room, Bob was lying on the +floor, and breathing heavily. He opened his eyes, +rose, and staggered a little; then he said, "B'lieve I +can walk a bit; come out for a stroll on the +tow-path." The moon was charging through wild +clouds, and the river was flecked alternately by strong +lights and broad swathes of shadow. Bob muttered +as he walked; so, to give him an excuse for conversation, +I said, "Why were you chucking the hardware +so gay and free, Robert?" He put his lips to +my ear, and said, "That pink tom cat has followed +me for ever so long, and I can't do for him anyhow. +By God, he's everywhere! A pink cat, you know,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +with eyes made of red fire. He's on to me just when +I don't expect him. Take me for a row. The brute +can't come on the water."</p> + +<p>"You'll never go out to-night!"</p> + +<p>"Won't I? And so will you, or I'll know the +reason why!"</p> + +<p>I had not secured that Derringer.</p> + +<p>I picked a big, broad boat at the inn stairs, and we +were soon dropping gently over the tide, but I would +not row hard, as I wanted to be near assistance. To +my astonishment Darbishire began to talk quite +lucidly, and went on for a few minutes with all the +charm that distinguished him when he was sober. +By some strange process the blood had begun to circulate +with regularity in the vessels of the impoverished +brain, and the man was sane. I was overjoyed, +and in the fulness of my heart I said, "We'll +drive home, or row there to-morrow. My dear fellow, +I thought you were going dotty." His jaw fell; he +yelled, "Stop him—stop him! He's coming with +his mouth open! Oh! red-hot teeth and his belly +full of flames—the cat! Oh, I'll stand this no +more—you brute, you shall drown!" In an instant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +he sprang overboard; the clouds came over the moon, +and I could only tell Bob's whereabouts by hearing +him wallowing and snarling like a dog. I backed up +to him, leaned over, and passed one of the rudder-lines +under his arm-pits; his struggling ceased and I +shouted for help. Lights moved on the bank, and +presently a boat shot towards us. The landlord said, +"Mercy on us! Excuse me, sir, but you did ought +to be careful. You ought to be shot for risking that +man's life; I see as how it is." I was only too glad +to have missed seeing a tragedy, and I let Boniface +talk on.</p> + +<p>It was agreed that Bob should have his draught, +and that I should sit up by his bedside till four next +morning. We wrapped him in warm blankets, and +coaxed him into taking the medicine. He started +and twitched for some time, and at last sank into +sleep. He moaned again and again, but showed no +signs of waking, and I sat quietly smoking and +framing good resolutions. My eyeballs were irritable, +and I found that I could only obtain ease by closing +my eyes. Once I started up and walked to and fro; +then it struck me I ought to throw the Derringer out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +of the window, and I did so; then I sat down. The +clock struck two; my tired eyes closed, but I was +sure I could keep awake, and I began to repeat old +songs merely to test my memory and keep the brain +active.</p> + +<p>Crash! I was sitting on the floor. The clock +struck one, two, three! Bob was gone. I had fallen +asleep and betrayed my trust. I could have cried, +but that would do little good. The door opened, and +Darbishire appeared—prowling stealthily and glaring. +A long glitter met my eye, and I saw that Bob had +taken down an old Yeomanry sabre from the wall of +the next room. He came on, and I shrank under the +shadow of my arm-chair. He heaved up the sabre, +and shouted, "Now, you beast, I've got you on the +hop!" and hacked at the bed with wild fury. As he +turned his back on me, I prepared to lay hold on him; +he whirled round swiftly, and my heart came into my +mouth. I cried out, "Bob, old man!" He started +furiously for a second, and then made a pass at me, +sending the steel through my clothes on the right side. +I felt a slight sting, but did not mind, and by +wrenching myself half round I tore the sabre from his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +hand. Then I closed, and held him, in spite of his +struggles and frothing curses, until the landlord and +ostler burst in and helped me.</p> + +<p>The cut on my side only needed sticking-plaister, +but I was completely exhausted, and I resolved not to +risk such another experience for any price. I said to +the landlord, "He must be taken to the town, where +we can have a doctor and attendants handy."</p> + +<p>"But you won't drive that poor lady out of her +senses, will you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'll take him to The Chequers, and smuggle +him in at night. They know me there, and not a +soul but the doctor and the men will be able to tell +where he is."</p> + +<p>Boniface was not quite satisfied, but he agreed to +lend me two men, and at dusk I drove round to the +back gate of The Chequers, and smuggled Bob through +the stables.</p> + +<p>He was very well behaved when the doctor came, +and even thanked him for providing two careful attendants. +The doctor's directions were very simple. +"I'll give him some strong meat essence at once; +then he must have the draught that I will send. No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +alcohol on any consideration, no matter if he goes on +his knees to you. Let him have milk and beef-tea as +often as you can, and never leave him for an instant."</p> + +<p>Our landlord of The Chequers was very funny about +the jim-jams, and funnier still about my suddenly +taking to swell company; but I let him talk on, and +he certainly kept unusually quiet, though no more inveterate +gossip ever lived.</p> + +<p>At a very late hour I was strolling homeward, long +after the last reeling coster had swayed and howled +towards his slum, when two women stopped me +Then a man came from the shadow of the wall, and I +thought I had fallen across some strange night-birds; +but one of the women spoke, and I knew she was a +lady. "You have my boy in that horrid place. Tell +me, is he well? I must see him; I'll tear the doors +down with my nails." Then the man said, "I drove +the keb, sir. I knows Mr. Robert, and I thought I'd +better tell his mother." I eagerly said, "Madam, +you shall see him, but, pray, not to-night. The +shock might kill him. On my honour he is in good +hands, and I promise to come to you on the instant +when it is safe for you to meet him." The lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +moaned, "Oh, my boy—my darling—my own! Oh! +the curse!"—and then she went away.</p> + +<p>In two days Bob was quite calm and rational. He +craved for food, and seemed so well that I thought I +might manage him single-handed. So the attendants +were dismissed, with the doctor's permission, and Bob +and I settled down for a quiet chat. I shall never +forget that talk. The lad was not maudlin, and he +utterly refused to whimper, but he seemed suddenly +to have seen the horror of the past. "You can stop +in time, old man," he said, "but I can't. When I'm +well, I'll turn to work, and I'll try to keep other chaps +from getting into the mud. It would be funny to see +me preaching to the boys up river, wouldn't it?" +For a moment I thought, "I'll turn teetotal as well," +but I did not say it. I bent towards Bob and asked, +"Would you care to see your mother, old man?" +He smiled beautifully, and eagerly answered, "Go +for her now."</p> + +<p>I was away about two hours, and returned with +Mrs. Darbishire. The landlord met us, and gravely +said "I've been away, but the potman tells me a +queer yarn. Mr. Darbishire made queer signs out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +window to the man you call the Ramper, and Mr. +Ramper goes to the pub over the way and then up to +the room. And now Mr. Robert's been locked in for a +hour and a half." My heart gave one leap, and then +I felt cold. We hurried up stairs, and we heard a +long shrill snarl—not like a human voice.</p> + +<p>"Locked! Fetch a crowbar, and call up one of +the lads to help."</p> + +<p>We burst open the door, and there on the bed lay +Bob. He was chattering, as it were, in his sleep, and +a brandy bottle lay on the floor. He had swallowed +nearly the whole of the poison raw, and his limbs +were paralyzed. Suddenly he opened his eyes; then +he writhed and yelled, "Mother!—the beast! the +beast!" The lady threw herself down on her knees +with a pitiful cry, but Bob did not speak to her. He +never spoke any more.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="TEDDY" id="TEDDY"></a>TEDDY.</h2> + +<p>I was so weak and nervous after Bob Darbishire's +death that I did not go much to The Chequers; +I hid myself most in my own rooms. The funeral +was attended by all the well-to-do folks in the district; +but I was not there, because I did not care to pass by +The Chequers in the procession. Most people had a +good word for poor Bob, and many kind fellows could +not mention him without the tears coming into their +eyes. Only the spongers were indifferent; but they had, +of course, to look around for another liberal spendthrift. +Bob was so young, and bright, and brave; I never +knew a straighter or a kinder man, and I have seen few +who had so much ability. He drifted into drunkenness +by accident, and the vice had him hard by the +throat before he found out that he was really a prisoner. +He struggled for awhile, and repented again and again;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +but his will was captured, and when once a man's +will is enslaved, vices seem to come easy to him. I +am not fit to moralise about his relations with women; +I only know that he was a sinner, and I think of his +temptations. Like so many splendid young Englishmen, +he was conquered by drink. The vice seizes on +some of the best in all classes, and the finest flowers +soon become as worthless as weeds when the blight has +caught them. It is nearly always the bright lad of a +family, the most promising, the mother's darling, that +goes wrong; it is the brilliant students, the men of +whom one says, "Ah, what could he not do if he +would only try!" is those who trip, and quench their +brilliance in the mud. A little rift in the fabric of +the will, a little instability of temper, an unlucky week +of idleness—these are the things that start a man +towards the very gulf of doom. Bob Darbishire, the +athlete, the delightful and exhilarating companion, +was set gliding on the slope, and now he and his +hopes and his unknown capabilities have passed away, +deeper than ever plummet sounded. It is a big puzzle. +I am a loafer, and I suppose I shall never be anything +else, so it is not for me to solve the ugly problem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Ramper fawned on me, and asked me if I had +heard of "that there pore young bloke wot kicked the +bucket upstairs."</p> + +<p>I said, "Yes; I fancy he was murdered. Do you +know who took the brandy up to him?"</p> + +<p>The Ramper looked very wicked, but merely +answered, "'Ow should I know? He arst me, and +I goes and says, 'No, sir; not for a thick 'un.' I see +'ow he was. I've 'ad 'em on myself, and I knowed +as 'ow he wasn't up there for nothing."</p> + +<p>The Ramper is undoubtedly a liar.</p> + +<p>The Wanderer often asked me to call, for he knows +that I have a stiff flask in my pocket every night. I +have pieced out the rest of his story, and I shall put +it into my book when I am less glum. At present I +swear every day that I shall turn temperance lecturer, +and spend my money on the Cause; but, somehow, +habit, and my roving blood, are too much for me. +Like all men of my sort, from Burns downward, I can +see evils clearly, and state their nature plainly enough; +but when it comes to keeping clear of them, I resemble +my tribe in being rather unhandy at judicious strategy. +<i>Vogue la galére!</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>Three months more have gone and my journals have +never been written up, save in chance scraps. The +Wanderer is quite as interesting as ever! I took the +odds to £2 with him over a race run at Newmarket, +and he paid promptly. He puts out little signs of +improvement—sprouts of gentility—at times: but one +heavy spell of gin and Shakespeare takes him back to +the old level again. Still, he is more amusing than the +dandies; in fact, I do not think I shall go amongst +the respectable division again. I make no pretence of +immolating myself: I go among the blackguards and +wastrels because I am fascinated; I tell exactly what +I see, and leave other people to make practical use of +my words. During the last three months I have been, +as usual, hard hit. It seems as though any creature +that I am fond of must soon be lost to me, and +the pages of my journal are like rows of tombstones.</p> + +<p>We were making a great noise in the bar one +night, for a cornet and fiddle were playing, and a few +couples were moved by the music and the beer to +begin dancing. A good many women come in at one +time or other, and their shrill laughter forms the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +treble of our crashing chorus. One tall, broad-shouldered +dame, who boasts of having six sons +serving in the Guards, made a great commotion. +Her weight is considerable. She had been drinking +for four hours, and, when she attempted to illustrate +her theory of the waltz, she sent drinkers and drink +flying as though her offspring's battalion had charged. +She had disabled one sporting coster who tried to +guide her, and the landlord was preparing for practical +remonstrance, when she sailed down upon me, yawing +all the way as though she were running before a hard +breeze. I prepared for the shock, but I was not +destined to receive it. A tiny little lad had just +received some beer in a bottle from the counter, +and he was making for home, when the tall woman +plumped upon him. The bottle was broken, the +beer ran among the dirt and sawdust, and the +little lad was almost smothered before the landlord +(who impolitely addressed the waltzer as a cow) +had managed to haul the ponderous woman to her +feet. The boy was a good deal hurt physically, +but his mental distress at sight of the lost beer +prevented him from noticing his bruises. When he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +fully grasped the extent of the calamity he actually +became pale, and I do not think I ever saw such a +piteous little face in my life. I asked "How much +was it, little 'un?" His lips trembled, and he said, +"I dunno. I put a-money down, and her knows what +to put in a-bottle. Father got to 'ave his beer, else +he not have good supper." I thought, "This youngster +isn't ill-used, or he wouldn't be anxious for his father +to have a good supper." Then I ordered a pint can +of ale, and offered it to the youth. He hesitated, and +said, "It's dark. I slip on a stone, and then more +beer gone," so I took his hand, and marched off with +the can, notwithstanding the fact that my friend the +cornet player struck up "See the conquering hero" in +a most humorous and embarrassing manner.</p> + +<p>It was very quiet and fresh outside, after the hoarse +wrangling and the dreadful air, and I liked to have +the boy's soft hand in mine. He said, "Missa +Benjo's cellar open. Two mens fall down a-night; +you keep a-hold o' my hand." I went very warily +down the alley, and found that Mr. Benjo had +assuredly left an awkward trap for the people from +The Chequers. My young man seemed very smart<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +and careful, and he soon led to a lone door which +opened into a den that was half kitchen, half +cellar.</p> + +<p>"Who a-you got long o' you, Teddy?" inquired a +gruff man who was crouched on a stool by the side of +the empty grate.</p> + +<p>"It's a man, father, wot give me the beer."</p> + +<p>"Come in, mate, if you've a mind."</p> + +<p>I accepted the invitation, prompted by my usual +curiosity, and found myself in a stinking little box, +which was lit by a guttering dip. Some clothes hung +on a line, and these offended more senses than one. +No breath of pure air seemed to have blown through +that gruesome dwelling for many a day, but I am +seasoned, and nothing puts me out much.</p> + +<p>"Ain't got another seat, mate. Take the bed."</p> + +<p>The bed was not suggestive of sleep, and I was a +trifle uneasy as I sat down; yet I knew it would +never do to hesitate, so down I sat.</p> + +<p>"Wot's this about givin' Teddy the beer?"</p> + +<p>I made answer.</p> + +<p>"Ain't got no more 'n two bloomin' dee, but you +can have 'em, and thank ye for your trouble."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have money enough, thanks. A pint isn't +much."</p> + +<p>"Oh, now I knows you. A bloke was a-tellin' me +they had a broken-down toff round at The Chequers, +and some on 'em says you ain't no more broken down +'n the Lord Mayor. Allus got enough for a 'eavy +booze. Anyway, you talks like a toff. I used to git +round to the bar, but it don't run to it now. Two +kids; and Teddy's clothes there ain't not so easy to +buy now. Missus is out charin'. She'll fetch us +a bit o' supper, and I makes out middlin' well +along o' my pint and bit o' bacca. How's things, +mate?"</p> + +<p>I said that things were flourishing fairly.</p> + +<p>"You ain't never done much blank work, <i>you</i> ain't. +Your dukes is same as silk. Bin a tailor?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have other work to do."</p> + +<p>"All square, mate; 'tain't no business o' mine. +Things is bad 'ere. The blank, blank swine of a +blank landlord, he takes pooty well 'alf of every +tanner I can make, and d——d if he'll do anything to +the place."</p> + +<p>"Smells are queer down here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Smell! Lord love you, come down yere to-morrer, +and you'll git to know wot stinks is. Let +Teddy show you that 'ere bloomin' ditch at the back. +They calls it a stream, but I dussn't say wot I thinks +it is afore the nipper. All the dead cats and muck in +the bloomin' crehation gits dumped in there. On 'ot +days you wants a nosebag on, I tell you, and no +error."</p> + +<p>"Does Teddy go to school?"</p> + +<p>"No fear; not yet. But he's fly as they makes +'em, he is. Useful he is, too. 'Andy as makes no +matter, and he ain't no more 'n seven."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm coming to see Teddy and the ditch to-morrow. +Will you have another pint?"</p> + +<p>"Right, matey; that'll do for to-morrow. Ain't +you got no less 'n a tanner? Never mind, I'll square +when I'm flush."</p> + +<p>Next day I visited the alley, and went to the gap +where it opened on to the ditch. There was an +admirably efficient hotbed for rearing diseases there. +A solid bed of sewage of about two feet deep seemed +to fill the hollow, and a thin sheet of filthy water +covered this bed—with sickly breaks here and there.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +Ordure palpable and abominable was plentiful, and +the swollen carcasses of small animals exhaled their +biting wafts. Poor little Teddy! I said, "Come +home with me, will you? Mind, you mustn't tell +anyone where I live;" and the amiable little dot set +off at my side. He could not walk very well, for he +had one shoe minus a sole, and his toes stuck through +the other. When we reached my room I sent out for +a pair of boots and two pairs of socks; then I pitched +Teddy's away, and presently to his terror, and my +own amusement, I found myself engaged in washing +his feet. Nice little feet they were when they came +clean, and their owner pattered about with perfect +satisfaction on my carpet. I pulled out some cakes, +and Teddy accepted a few, turning away his head as +he took them. He had the exact look of a dog that is +being reproved, and I had some trouble in persuading +him to begin. When he had finished one sponge-cake +he grinned and enigmatically observed, "Teddy's +belly." I said, "That's baby talk. You talked all +right last night. Finish your cakes and you'll have +some more for tea. Trot about as you like till it's +ready." He went gaily about, touching some articles,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +and even sniffing at others; he dived into my bedroom, +and I heard him cry "Ooh!" Then there was +a scraping sound, and Teddy appeared lugging a small +looking-glass and smiling broadly. "Ooh! This is +what there is when a lady gives you a beer." I +understood that he referred to the bleared glass +behind the bar of the Chequers, and I appreciated +Teddy's powers of comparison; but I explained +to him that mirrors cannot be safely hauled about +by little boys, and he kindly assented to this +proposition.</p> + +<p>We had tea, and Teddy so far improved on his +bashfulness that he made grabs at several things which +would have disagreed with him if I had let him follow +his inclinations. He affably received my hints on +table etiquette, and smiled with gentleness when I +told him he had eaten enough. The little creature's +ideas were like those of a dog. He had been taught +to follow and to come home to his kennel; he was +ready to be gracious toward those who fed him, and he +had the true canine glance which expresses gratitude +and expectancy at once. But he was only a rudimentary +human being, and his brain power had slept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +so far. I showed him Caldecott's wonderful "House +that Jack Built," and he gloated over that delightful +villain of a dog; the cat and the rat he understood, +but he knew nothing of the cow. I let him stare at +the dog as long as he chose, and he chuckled like a +magpie all the time. He proposed to remove the +picture-book, and it was only with difficulty that I +persuaded him to let me keep it. Knowing the street +arab class very well, I did not try to talk with him, +for I have always found that an arab's curiosity when +he finds himself in a new place renders him incapable +of attending to anything that is said to him until he +has learned the appearance of every object in the room. +The little chap is a barbarian, and you must treat him +exactly as you would treat an adult member of a +friendly savage tribe.</p> + +<p>Before Teddy went home I rigged him up in his +new boots and stockings, and he was amusingly proud. +When we parted at the alley he said, "You let me go +you house again, and have some nice things and see +the dog?" Of course I invited him, and henceforth +he waylaid me in the afternoons as I went home. At +first he was not polite, and his mode of calling, "Hoy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +man! wait for me!" drew marked attention from the +public. But he soon learned to lift his hat and to +shake hands. At intervals I gave him set lessons on +manners, and, if he behaved nicely, we had a game at +cricket in my queer old garden. It was almost impossible +to make Teddy understand the morality of +any game at first. When he learned that the ball +must not touch his wicket, his treatment of my slow +bowling was positively immoral. I did not mind his +kicking the ball out of the way, nor did I object to his +using his bat like a scoop; but when he lay down in +front of the wicket, and sweetly smiled as the ball +touched his stomach, I had to insist on severe cricketing +etiquette. As the nights darkened in I took to +amusing myself more and more with Teddy, and sometimes +I did not go out to the Chequers at all. The +boy was a severe trial to me when he learned to play +draughts. When once the fundamental laws of the +game dawned on his mind, and he understood that he +must try to reduce the number of my pieces, he +thought that any means were justified if he could be +successful. Once I left the room for a minute while +we were playing, and on my return found four of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +men had disappeared. I said, "Where are those +men?" Teddy smiled courteously; "I taken 'em. +I go hop, hop, hop, over a lot. All fair." "But +where have you put them?" "In a pocket. All +fair." But he gradually grew out of his habits of +picking and stealing, and he behaved much like a well-trained +dog. It is plain to me that he regarded me as +a sort of deity; but his love was quite unalloyed by fear. +He would stroke my beard, and say, "You very nice," +when I had been specially good-humoured, and, as his +stock of words increased, he prattled on by the hour. +One must love something, and I got into the habit of +loving this pale little urchin, so that at length I fitted +up a crib for him, and asked his mother to let him +stay with me. This made a great change in my habits. +Teddy seemed to wake as by magic, if I rose to go +out after he was in bed, and, although he never cried, +his way of saying, "You won't let me stop by myself—perhaps +the black man might come," always settled +me. By degrees I fell into the habit of reading at +nights, and the steady life made my brain clear. +Books that had been dim memories to me for years +became vivid, and the power of sustained thinking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +came back. In those long, calm evenings, I went +through my Gibbon again, and the awful pageant that +rolls past our view under the direction of the aristocrat +of literature made my late life seem poor and mean. +How low we were! The darkened costers are interesting +as studies in animal life; but the more pretentious +persons whose humour reaches its highest +flight in an indecent story, and whose wit consists in +calling someone else a liar—how petty they are, and +how fruitless is their friendship! I began to feel like +a patrician who surveys the mob from his lordly dais, +and I almost resolved to go back to the clubs and +theatres once more.</p> + +<p>Teddy increased so much in mental power that he +took interest in fairy tales, and he was a rigorous +taskmaster. I was obliged to illustrate the stories in +varied ways. Once I was asked, "What's a gian'?" +I said, "A very, very big man." "Big as you?" +"Far bigger." "How bigger? Has he got legs, +and heads, and—and things like that?" "We'll see. +When I stand on this chair I'm as big as a giant," +but it was all of no avail, and only after Teddy had +seen a huge, knock-kneed being in a penny show did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +he understand what a giant could be like. Then he +asked for giant stories on all occasions.</p> + +<p>It struck me that I was neglecting Teddy's religious +education. Hundreds and thousands of such little +fellows in and about London have no notion of a God, +or any ruling power save the policeman. I had a dark +mind to deal with, and Teddy's questions fairly beat +me. Of course I took the old orthodox ideas, and +tried to make them simple, but Teddy posed me like +this:</p> + +<p>"Do God live in a sky?"</p> + +<p>"Far away. Yes; well, say in the sky."</p> + +<p>"Where does he hang up his coat when he goes to +his bed?"</p> + +<p>What on earth was a poor, distracted loafer to +say? I could not deal with Jesus, for I saw that +Teddy did not understand goodness. He knew that +I was kind, and he liked to kiss my hand slily, +and rub his cheek on my knee; but abstract goodness +and gentle words like those of Jesus did not appeal +to him. I was satisfied to have a queer creature +that followed me like a dog, and I am afraid that +if he had lived I should have made him a kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +of heathen; but the luck was against me. Teddy's +father came on a Sunday morning, and said, "If +you don't mind, his mother'd like to 'ave him +along to dinner to-morrow. We got a bit o' pork and +a horrange spesshal for him." So Teddy went home +when the ditch was in worse order than usual. He +had been kept amid good air, and he was clean—I +washed him myself—and I fancy that the stenches +poisoned him simply because he could not become +acclimatised to the alley again. Anyway, he was +heavy and listless when he came back, and in two days +I had to send for his father and mother. I am not +going into any pathetic details, for that is not +my line. Night after night I walked the floor +with the youngster, and when the doctor said I +should catch diphtheria if I kissed him, I said I +didn't care a damn, for I was wild. Then my boy +went away.</p> + +<p>One night I was walking about the park in mad +fashion while a hoarse gale roused a deep chorus +among the trees. I could have sworn that my lad +called to me. Then I went back and dropped into +The Chequers. The Ramper said, "Wot cher,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +yer old bugaboo?" The Wanderer shouted, +"Now let the trumpet to the kettle speak; the +kettle to the cannoneer without. He comes! He +comes!"</p> + +<p>And I went home and stayed till dawn with the +Wanderer. That is the way we live.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_WANDERER_AGAIN" id="THE_WANDERER_AGAIN"></a>THE WANDERER AGAIN.</h2> + +<p>Several racing men have warned me against +the Wanderer, in their peculiarly friendly way. +They want me to bet with <i>them</i>. But I like the +Bohemian, the blackleg, better than I do better men. +Moreover, though I am carefully informed that he is +a blackleg, I find him honest. His story has long +been hanging in my mind, and we may as well take +it at once.</p> + +<p>Devine's runaway match turned out well for a time. +When old Mr. Billiter came home and heard what +had happened he fell in a fit, and, on his recovery, he +went about for a long time moaning, "We'll never +hold up our heads no more." His friends thought he +would lose his reason, for he would stop people in the +street, and say, "Have you a daughter? Kill her, if +you care for her. Mine's gone off with a hactor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +But the young couple were happy enough in reality, +and Devine took the fancy of the New Yorkers to +such a degree that his engagement was extended over +three years. Letty Devine led a gay, careless life; +her husband had plenty of money, and she was introduced +to pleasures that made the frowsy life of home +seem very repulsive. Devine was kind to her, and +continued to play the lover in his pompous style. +She was proud of her man, too. He played Claude +Melnotte for his benefit once, and she longed to say +to the ladies in the theatre, "He belongs to me. +How could she help being fascinated with him? +Where could you find such another princely being?" +She felt a lump in her throat when the great house +rose at her William, and the more so since she knew +that her praise was more to him than all the clamour +of the theatre. Devine had begun by fortune-hunting, +and ended by loving his wife, though she did not +bring him a penny.</p> + +<p>Those were merry days in New York. Champagne +was plentiful as water, and William Devine often +came home in a very lively condition, but his wife did +not mind, for she thought that a man must have his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +glass. Women of the lower and middle classes have +a great deal to do with supplying customers to the +public-house. Some of them drive their men there +by nagging, but more of them lead a man on to drink +by sheer indulgence. They encourage him to enjoy +himself without thinking of the day when enjoyment +will be impossible, and when they and their children +will reach the lowermost rung of the ladder of shame +and penury. The Wanderer went merrily on his way, +but his vice was steadily gaining on him, and his +nerve was going. He took a long engagement for an +Australian tour, and carried on very loosely all the +while; but Letty saw no change. Women never do +until the very worst has happened. When Devine +came to England he was eagerly looked after, and he +should have fared well. For a time he had engagements +and money in plenty, but a subtle change was +taking place in him, and managers and audiences saw +it, though they could not say precisely where the +deterioration had taken place.</p> + +<p>There is a certain sporting set of theatrical men +who are very dangerous companions. Their daily +work is exciting, and when they want change they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +often gamble, because that is the only form of excitement +which is keener than the stir and tumult of the +theatre. When Devine won three hundred pounds +on one Derby he was a lost man. He pitted his wits +against the bookmakers'; he took to loafing about +with those flash, cunning fellows who appear to spend +their mornings in bars and their evenings in music-halls; +he lost his ambition, and he began to lead a +double life. In the end he took to presenting himself +at the theatre in various stages of drunkenness, and +on one unlucky night he practically settled his own +fate by falling down on the stage after he had +blundered over his lines a dozen times. The public +saw little of him after that, for he had not the power +of Kean, or Cooke, or Brooke.</p> + +<p>They all go the same way when they slip as Devine +did. You can meet them on the roads, in common +lodging-houses, in the workhouse. The residuum is +constantly recruited from the "comfortable" classes, +and, out of thousands of cases, I never knew half-a-dozen +in which the cause was not drink. I blame +nobody. A drunkard is always selfish—the most +selfish of created beings—and his flashes of generosity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +are symptoms of disease. If he lives to be cured of +his vice his selfishness disappears, and he is another +man; but so long as he is mastered by the craving, +all things on earth are blotted out for him saving his +own miserable personality. So far does the disease +of egotism go, that it is impossible to find a drunkard +who can so much as listen to another person; he is +inexorably impelled to utter forth <i>his</i> views with more +or less incoherence.</p> + +<p>Devine, the tender husband, the kind father, +became a mere slinker, a haunter of tap-rooms, a +weed. Sometimes he was lucky enough to win a +pound or two on a race, and that was his only means +of support. The children were ragged; Letty tried +to live on tea and bread, but the lack of food soon +brought her low, and from sheer weakness she became +a pitiful slattern.</p> + +<p>Mr. Billiter was informed that a woman "like a +beggar" wanted to see him particularly. He was +about to order her off at first, but he finished by +going to the door, and the beggar-woman went on her +knees to him. He trembled; then he fairly lifted the +poor soul up in his arms and sobbed hard. "My gal,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +my pooty as was. My little gal. To think as you +never come before you was like this. I've bin dead +since you was away. My 'art was dead, my little gal. +And you're goin' away no more, never no more, with +no hactors. Sit down. Give me that shawl. Lord +bless me, it's a dish clout! And your neck's like a +chicken's, and your breasts is all flat, as was round +as could be. O me!"</p> + +<p>But the good fellow's moanings soon fell on deaf +ears, for Letty fainted. When she came round, the servants +fed her, and she began to cry for the children. +"Children if you like, but never him," said Billiter; +and he at once drove off to bring his darling's +ragged little ones home.</p> + +<p>Devine was snoring on the floor when the old +tradesman entered the lodging. There was no fire, +no furniture, no food, and the half-naked children +were huddled together for warmth. The youngest +two screamed when a rough man came in, for they +thought it was the brokers once more. Billiter sent +the eldest out for a candle, which he stuck in an +empty gin-bottle. He looked at the snoring drunkard, +and gave him a contemptuous push with his foot; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +the one little boy screamed, "You not touch my dada, +you bad man!" and the old fellow was instantly +ashamed. He said, "Now, my little dears, I want +you to come to your mamma. She sent me for you. +We'll all go away in a warm carriage, and you'll have +something warm and nice to eat. Put the youngsters' +clothes on, my gal."</p> + +<p>"We've none of us got any clothes, sir."</p> + +<p>"My God! Here, you sir—wake up. Sit against +the wall. Do you see me? I've got your wife at +home, and I'm going to take these kids. You'll hear +from me to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Devine finally woke just before the public-houses +closed. He staggered out, and, after his first drink, +the memory of what had passed flashed back on him. +He felt in his pockets. Yes! He had some money—a +good deal as it happened, for he had put five +shillings on a horse at 33 to 1. "Pull yourself +together, Billy," he muttered. "You must have a +warm bed to-night, and face it out to-morrow. One +more drink, and I'll have my bed here."</p> + +<p>In the morning he felt wretched, but when he had +regained his nerve by the usual method he acted like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +a man. First he wrote a letter to his wife. (I saw +the yellow old copy of it.)</p> + +<p>"Dearest,—I had a bit of luck yesterday, and took +too much on the strength of it. I was carried home +from this house, and I could not speak to Lily or any +of them. I deserve to lose you, and I will never ask +you to come back unless there is no fear of more +misery. But this I will do. I intend to maintain +my own children, if I go and sell matches. I won +eight pounds odd yesterday. I squandered one +pound, I keep two to make a fresh start, and you +have the rest. While this heart shall beat—yes, +while memory holds her seat, as the poet says, you +are dear to me. Once more, in the poet's words, I +grapple you to my soul with hoops of steel. What +has come over me I do not know, and when I wake to +the fact of my degradation I go madly to the drink +again. But I will try, and I implore your forgiveness. +I cannot hope to see you often, and it is better that I +should not, for I am worthless. But think of me, +and, if I fall again and again, believe me that I shall +go on striving to do better.—Until death, I am your +loving, <span class="smcap">W. Devine.</span>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We don't want none of his 'oss-racin' money. +Send it back, my gal," growled old Billiter when he +saw this letter. But the poor woman would not hurt +her husband.</p> + +<p>Devine found all respectable employments closed to +him, and he was often in desperate straits; but he +would always contrive to send something, if it were +only a half-crown, toward the support of his children. +When he reached the Nadir of shabbiness, he touted +in Piccadilly among the cabs, and picked up a few +coppers in that way. For days he could abstain from +drink, but that curse never left him, and he broke +down again and again, only to repent and strive more +fervently than ever. Alas! how weak we are. +Surely we should help each other. I am often tempted +to forget there is evil in the world. There are +moments when I can almost pardon myself, but that +is too hard. Devine said he could not see Letty +often. He only saw her once more. She was ailing +and weakly, and one day she put her arms round her +father's neck, and whispered to him. He started, and +growled, "All right, my gal; I deny you nothin'. +Only I'll go out of the 'ouse before he comes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>So William Devine was summoned, and he found +his wife propped up in bed. Her hands were frail, +and the bones of her arms stood out sharply. The +man was choking, Letty made an effort, lifted her +arms, and drew him down to her with an ineffable +gesture of tenderness. "Oh, Will, I'm glad you've +come. How happy we were—how happy! I forget +everything but that." Devine could not speak for a +while. Letty said:</p> + +<p>"You'll always be near the children, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"So help me God! I'll give up my life to them."</p> + +<p>Then the doctor came, and the Wanderer saw his +stricken wife no more.</p> + +<p>Devine bore many hardships before he was able to +claim his children, and even when he had rigged up a +house fit to shelter them he was vigorously opposed +by old Billiter. But he got his own way, and Letty's +children joined their father.</p> + +<p>And now I must speak of a strange thing. The +room which the Wanderer occupies is bare of every +comfort. When we sit together we rest our glasses +on the mantelpiece (for there is no table), and our feet +are on the boards. But one night Devine said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +"Come up and see my pets in bed." The young +people were disposed in two absolutely comfortable +rooms. Everything was neat and clean, and there +were signs even of luxury. <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original didn't have the opening double quote.">"How</ins> is this? Squalor +below, comfort here," I thought. A little girl who +was awake said, "Kiss me, papa, dear." Her nightgown +was white and pretty. All the clothes that lay +around were good. "Now, see the children's room," +said my seedy host. "They live <i>there</i>." And, +behold! a perfectly comfortable place, fitted up with +strong, good furniture.</p> + +<p>When we went down, the Wanderer helped himself +from my flask. Then, with majesty, he observed, +"You marvel to see me so shabby? Sir, you must +know that I wear my clothes till they are falling to +pieces. I deny myself everything but the booze, and +I never start on that till I've handed my daughter—bless +her!—the best part of the money. I made a +promise to a saint, sir. I couldn't drop the liquor. +It's my master, so I fight as long as I can and get +better as soon as possible after it's over. I'm wrong +to give way and spend money on it. I can't help +myself. But I give all but my drink-money to them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +Sir, I am content to meet the scoffs of respectability; +I think only of my children in my sober moments. +On the racecourse I'm a gambler, I'm a blackleg (if +you believe all you hear); but when the horses are +passing the post and all the people are mad, I am +quite quiet. I pray sir, to win; but I only pray +because my children's faces are before me. Yes, sir, +take away the drink and give me a chance of honest +work and I might nearly be a good man."</p> + +<p>The fellow's face grew almost youthful as he +spouted, and I thought, "That little girl upstairs is +very young. Her father is not an old man after all." +Old he looks—battered, scared, frail; but he has a +young heart. What a compound! The more I +meditate, the more I am convinced that we shall have +to invent a new morality. The standards whereby +we judge men are far too rigid. Who shall say that +Devine is bad? He is a victim to the disease of +alcoholism, and his disease brings with it fits of selfishness. +But there is another Devine—the real man—who +is neither diseased nor selfish; and both are +labelled as disreputable. When next I see poor Billy +on the floor after his yelling fit I shall think of him in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +a friendly way. More than ever I am convinced by +his fate that all the high-flying legislation, all the +preaching of morality, all pulpit abstractions count for +nothing. The best men must try by strenuous individual +exertions to combat the subtle curse which has +converted the good, generous Billy Devine into a mean +debauché. I am out of it. I smoke with Billy, I +clink glasses with Billy, I laugh at Billy's declamations, +and I am often muddled when I leave Billy +in the morning. He illustrates sordidly a chapter of +England's history. I wish he didn't.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_ROBBERY" id="THE_ROBBERY"></a>THE ROBBERY.</h2> + +<p>I was robbed last night, and it served me right for +being a fool. A seedy, down-looking man hangs +about The Chequers all day, and he never does any +work except stick up the pins in the skittle alley. +He has a sly, secret look, and I fancy he is one of +the stupid class of criminals. We often talk together, +but there is not much to be got out of him; he usually +keeps his eye on someone else's pewter, and he is +catholic in his taste for drinks. Of late he has been +accompanied by three other persons—a stout, slatternly +woman, whom he named as his wife; a rather +pretty, snub-nosed girl, who dresses in tawdry prints; +and a red-faced, thick-set, dark fellow, who grins perpetually +and shows a nice set of teeth. The elder +man confidentially informed me that the stout young +man was his son-in-law.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>We had been a long time acquainted before I learned +anything definite about these four. The girl usually +arrives about half-past ten; she spends money freely, +and the four always take home a huge can of beer. +Some while ago the young man—Blackey he is nicknamed—went +out, and I followed him quietly. He +had been affable with me all the evening, and went so +far as to offer me a drink. It struck me that he was +indirectly trying to pump me, for he said, "You don't +talk like none of us. I reckon you've been on the +road." Moreover, when we met he had saluted me +thus, "Sarishan Pala. Kushto Bak," and this salutation +happens to be Rommany. As we pursued our +talk, he inquired, "You rakker Rommanis?" (You +speak the gipsy tongue?) and I answered, "Avo." I +could see that he wanted to establish some bond of +communication between us, and that was why I followed +him. As I quietly came up behind him he said, +"That's tacho like my dad. I dicked a bar and a +pash-crooner." (That's as true as can be. I saw a +sovereign and a half-crown.) He was not comfortable +when he saw me, and I knew I had been a fool to let +him know that I spoke Rommany. However, I passed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +on as if I had not heard a word. The fellow had no +doubt been told that I was a tramp, and he put a feeler +to find out whether I knew the language of the road. +Next day we met very early. I had stayed out all +night with some poachers, and I was in The Chequers +by half-past seven in the morning. Master Blackey +was there also, and we exchanged greetings. He was +blotchy and his eyes seemed heavy; moreover, he was +without a drink, and I correctly guessed that he had +no money. My evil genius prompted me to ask for +brandy-and-soda, which was the last thing I should +have done, and Blackey said, "Us blokes can't go for +sixpenny drinks. Let me 'ave a drappie levinor." The +gipsy word for ale was quietly dropped in, and I +ordered the right stuff as if nothing unusual had been +said. Then it flashed on me. "This beauty has +heard of me from the Suffolk gipsies; he knows that +I carry money sometimes, and he wants to find out +if I am really the laulo <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original didn't have the closing double quote.">Rye."</ins> (The Surrey Roms call +me the Boro Rye; the Suffolk Roms call me laulo +<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original didn't have the closing parenthesis.">Rye.)</ins></p> + +<p>For a good while after this the times seemed to be +rather bad for the four companions. Several times I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +saw Blackey mutter savagely when the girl came in, +and it was easy to see that he was not a full-blood +gipsy, or he would never have threatened to strike her +in a public bar. Then it happened that I heard a yell +one night as I was stealing around the by-streets after +most of the drunken people had gone home. A man's +voice growled harshly—it was like the snarl of a wild +beast,—"Three nights you done no good. Blarst yer +slobberin'! you ain't got no more savvey than a blank +blank cow. I'd put a new head on yer for tuppence."</p> + +<p>A woman answered, "You've struck me, you swine; +and if I've got a black eye I'll quod you, sure as I'm +yere. Ain't I lushed you, and fed you, and found +your clobber long enough?"</p> + +<p>"Garn, you farthin' face! Shet your neck."</p> + +<p>"All very fine, Mister Blackey, but how would you +like a smack in the bloomin' eye? I done the best as +I knew for you, and there ain't a bloke round as has a +judy wot'll go where I goes and hand over the +wongur."</p> + +<p>"Never mind, I was waxy when I done it. Maybe +we'll 'ave some luck to morrow'."</p> + +<p>I was hidden all this time, and I kept very quiet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +until the pair moved away. Over my last pipe I had +many meditations, and formed my own conclusions +about Master Blackey.</p> + +<p>There are, as I have said, thousands of fellows who +have never done any work, and never mean to do any; +they are born in various grades of life; the public-house +is their temple; they live well and lie warm, +and you can see a fine set of them in the full flush of +their hoggish jollity at any suburban race meeting. +Blackey was a fair specimen of his tribe; they are +often pleasant and plausible in a certain way, and it is +really a pity that they cannot be forcibly drafted into +the army, for they are always men of fine physique. +They are vermin, if you like, but how admirably we +protect them, and how convenient are the houses of +call which we provide for them.</p> + +<p>I went warily to work with Blackey, but I was resolved +all the same to see him in his home. It happens +that even Blackey's household has a hanger-on, +who also happens to be a parasite of mine. He is a +lanky, weedy lad, with a foxy face. His dark, +oblique-set eyes, his high cheek-bones, his sharp chin, +are vulpine to the last degree, and, as he slouches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +along with his shoulders rucked up and his knees bent, +he looks like the Representative Thief. He is called +Patsey, and I frequently spare him a copper; but his +chief patron is Blackey, who often hands him the dregs +of a pot of beer.</p> + +<p>Yesterday morning Patsey waylaid me, but I waved +him off. At night he caught me going in at the back +gate of The Chequers; his hand trembled as he +clutched my arm, and he said with chattering teeth, +"Give me a dollar, and I'll tell you somethin'."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the something first, and then we'll see +about the dollar."</p> + +<p>"Don't you go near Blackey's place to-night. +They're a goin' to ast you if they kin. Blackey's +found out as you've got respectable relations as +wouldn't like to see your name in the papers, and he's +goin' to 'ave a new lay on. 'Taint no bloomin' error +neither. The gal—Tilley, don't-cherknow—she'll +say, 'I'll walk home with you a bit,' when Blackey's +out. He meets you, and he says, 'Wot 'cher doin' +'long o' my wife? Didn't I trust you at home? I'll +expose you.' <i>She ain't no more his wife than I am</i>, +so you look out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's worth a dollar, Patsey. Now sneak you +into the stables, and don't come near me all night."</p> + +<p>I was quite at ease, and became convivial with +Blackey and his worthy father-in-law. The only thing +that worried me was the knowledge that I had one +note in my watch-pocket besides my loose spending +money. Still I felt sure of dodging the gang, and I +tried to appear innocent as possible while the artless +Blackey offered me liquor after liquor; and he +remarked at about ten, "My missus orfen says to me, +'Why don't you fetch him home?' she says. If he +brings a bottle we'll find our lot, and he'll be just as +jolly as he is at Billy Devine's. What say to come +down to-night?"</p> + +<p>"All right, only not too late."</p> + +<p>At twelve we departed, and I was taken to a row of +low cottages, which, however, were fairly solid and +neat. At first we sat in a kitchen, and I was accommodated +with a tub for a seat. Our light came from +the fire and a dull lamp, which only made a reddened +twilight in the air. The fat woman watched me like +a cat, and I fancied that her mouth was like that of a +carnivorous beast. The sly old man looked on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +ground, but his stealthy eye—like the eye of a +cunning magpie—glittered sometimes as he turned it +on me. Blackey was most cordial, and soon proposed +a song. He obliged first, and warbled some ghastly +affair which aimed at being nautical in sentiment. +The chorus contained some observations like "Hilley-hiley-Hilley-ho," +and it also gave us the information +that gentleman named Jack would shortly come home +from the sea. The thing was a silly Cockney travesty +of a sailor's song, but we were all pleased with it, and +it led the way nicely to the girl's ditty, which stated +that somebody was going sailing, sailing, over the +bounding main (sailors always mention the sea as the +bounding main), and by easy steps we got to the fat +woman's "Banks of Hallan Worrrtter." We were a +jovial company: four of us were wondering how they +could rob the fifth, and that fifth resolved, quite early +in this sèance, to use his knuckle-duster promptly, +and to prevent either of the male warblers from getting +behind him, at any risk. About three o'clock the +junior lady placed herself on my knee, and her +husband approvingly described her as a bloomin' +baggage. I did not like the special perfume which my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +friend employed for her hair, and I also disliked the +evidences which went to prove that the bath was not +her favourite luxury; but we did not fall out, and, +after a spell of sprightly song, we all indulged in a +dance of the most spirited description. Drink was +plentiful, and, as I saw I was being plied very freely, +I pretended to be eager for more. This modified the +strategy of my friends, for they were reasonably +anxious to secure a skinful, and they feared lest my +powers might prove to be abnormal. Four watching +like wild beasts! One waiting, and calculating +chances! The sullen, grey-eyed old man had taken +on the aspect of a ferret; the fat woman was like that +awful wretch who meets the pale girl in Hogarth's +"Marriage à la Mode;" the bastard gipsy smiled in +"leary" fashion, as if he were coming up for the +second round of a fight, and knew that he had it all +own way. I pumped up jokes, and my snub-nosed +charmer pretended to laugh. Ah! what a laugh.</p> + +<p>This was the position when Blackey declared that +he must go. "Got to shunt, old man? You squat +still, now, and git through that there lotion. I got to +go to market, and we ain't no bloomin' moke. I'm on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +on my stand ten o'clock—no later—and that wants +doin'. The missus'll fetch me some corrfee, and, +hear you, put a nip o' that booze in. It warms yer +liver up. By-by. Mind you stay, now, and no faint +hearts. Mother, up with your heavy wet, and try +suthin' short. I'm off!"</p> + +<p>With an ostentatious farewell, the excellent Blackey +stumped off, and the four remaining revellers became +staid.</p> + +<p>"'Ard times," said the ferret-faced man; "but +we've 'ad <i>one</i> good night out on it anyways."</p> + +<p>"How do you make your living, may I ask, if that's +a fair question, mate?" This question was addressed +by <i>me</i> to the sly man, and he was embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"Livin'! 'Taint no livin'. It's lingerin'. Leastways +it would be if it wasn't for my gell, Tilley, there. +'Er and 'er 'usban' gives us a 'and; an' if you've got +a bit about you you might 'elp us put our copper to +rights. Got a thick 'un? I'll pay it back, s'elp me +Gord, if the missus can start laundryin' agin'."</p> + +<p>I saw that this meant "Show us which pocket you +keep your money in," so I shamelessly said, "I'll put +that square in the morning, governor." Then some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +silly small-talk—petty as children's babble, low as the +cackle of the bar—went on, and I found myself somehow +left alone with the snub-nosed young person. +She was evidently in some trouble, and I was the +more interested about her in that I chanced to look at +a side window, and found the fat, carnivorous woman +and the down-looking man surveying us with interest, +under the impression that they were invisible.</p> + +<p>Now, I have never cared for talking to girls of +her class, for I do not like them. All talk about +soiled doves and the rest is mere nauseous twaddle, +arising from ignorance. The creatures take to their +rackety life because they like it, and, though I have +met some good and kind members of their class, I +have observed that the majority are rapacious, cruel, +and devoid of every human sentiment that does not +hinge on hunger or vanity. You may treat a man as +an equal in spite of his vices, and do no harm, but to +treat a woman as an equal <i>because</i> of her vices is worse +than folly. This silly creature proposed to brush my +hair. I had encouraged her to familiarity, so I did +not object to the toilet process, but I did most strongly +object to sniffing at a bottle which she said would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +"freshen me up amazing." She withdrew the cork, +and memories of the college laboratory struck at my +brain with sudden violence on the instant. The +unforgettable odour of ethyllic chloride caught at my +nerves, and I politely rose.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, I must go. It will be daylight in +half an hour," I said, for I saw that merry Miss +Tilley had been ready to supplement Blackey's device +by a second trick.</p> + +<p>"I'll come with you a little way. You're dotty a +bit."</p> + +<p>I reached the fresh air and quietly said, "No, you +mustn't. The men are going to factory up by the +Fawcett-road, and every second man we meet will +know us."</p> + +<p>Miss Tilley muttered something, but she preserved +her smile and only said, "I tell my husband as you +took care of us."</p> + +<p>As I stole through the heavy fog I thought, "Now, +what business had I there? If my mother had +seen that wretched servant girl brushing my hair the +old lady would have died—I, the child of many +prayers, the hope of a house, and stumping home on a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +foggy morning after sitting among the scum of earth +all night. I mean to be a philosopher, but what +a beastly, silly school to cultivate political philosophy +in! What do I know more than I knew before?—that +one vulgar girl maintains three vulgar criminals, +and that all the four will come whining to the workhouse +when the game is played out and they can rob +no one else. They are creatures whose vices and +idleness and general villany are engendered amid +drink. They are the foul fungi that fatten on the +walls of the public-house; that is all. And I have +given them more drink only to see them plan a robbery. +Seventy thousand of them in London? Yes. But +supposing a few thousands of <i>us</i>, instead of being +indifferent, instead of 'exploring' in my harum-scarum +way, go to work and try to give these creatures a +chance of living human lives? What then? Would +Blackey or the girl or the wicked old folk have gone +to the bar and eaten away their morality with alcohol +if they had not been driven out by the stinking +dulness of that kitchen? I don't know. I only +know that when this spell is over I shall have some +corrections to address to the people who stick up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +institutes, and organise charitable funds. I can offer +myself as the horrid example, if they like, and that +should impress them."</p> + +<p>Then my musings were checked, for I had to cross +a wooden bridge over the odious stream that poisoned +Teddy, and the fog was like flying gruel. Carefully I +picked my way over the bridge, and aimed for the +dark, narrow lane that led towards my abode. I +remember thinking, "What a place this would be if +we were troubled with footpads!" Then came a pause. +Now you know how sound travels in a fog? I saw +two posts standing shadowily before me; then the +posts appeared to fade away, or to be closed up in the +brown haze; then I distinctly heard a whisper, "He +ain't got her with him. You come after me." I was +stooping, and peering to find out who whispered. +Wrench! I grasped at my neck. Crack! A sound +like the clanking of chains rattled in my head; a flash +of many coloured flame shot before my eyes; a +hundred memories came vividly to me, and I thought I +was a boy again, and then I remember no more, until +some voice said, "Feelin' better?"</p> + +<p>I was a little sick, and my head was bleeding, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +otherwise I had suffered no harm, and I could walk. +It was as though I had received a knock-down blow in +a fight, and that does not hurt one for long. But +how lucky that the water was out of the mill stream! +I had been pitched into about six inches of water, and +a policeman who heard the splash jumped over some +rails, and cut across a private paddock in time to save +me from being smothered in the mud. It is now +midnight; I have a man with me, and I am not quite +so vigorous as I could wish, but my head is clear, and +to-morrow there will only be the criss-cross mass of +sticking-plaster to tell that I have been felled and +robbed. I shall try to pay Mr. Blackey out. Meantime +the police and public should remember that many +men in London pick up a living by arranging humorous +little midnight interviews like that which I went +through. Only the professionals work on the Thames +Embankment, and the "bashed" man, instead of +going into six inches of mud, never is heard of again +till his carcass is brought before the coroner.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ONE_OF_OUR_ENTERTAINMENTS" id="ONE_OF_OUR_ENTERTAINMENTS"></a>ONE OF OUR ENTERTAINMENTS.</h2> + +<p>We have lately had "sport" brought to our very +doors, and a pretty crew offered themselves for +my study. In the diseased life of the city many +odious human types are developed, but none are so +horrible as those that crop up at sporting gatherings +of various sorts. I have never doubted the existence +of an impartial, beneficent Ruling Power save when +I have been among the scum of the sporting meetings. +At those times I often failed to understand why a good +God could permit beings to remain on earth whose +very presence seems at once to insult the pure sky +and the memory of Christ. If you go away for a few +weeks and live among simple fishermen or hinds you +become proud of your countrymen. On wild nights, +when the black waves galloped down on our vessel and +crashed along our decks, I have felt my heart glow as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +I watched the cool seamen picking up their ropes +and working deftly on amid the roaring darkness. +The fishers are sober, splendid men, who face death +with never a tremor, and toil on usefully day after +day. Come away from their broad, sane simplicity +and courage, and look upon the infamous hounds who +are bred in the congested regions—you are sickened +and depressed.</p> + +<p>I notice that the sporting gang talk only of betting, +thieving, whoremongering, or fighting. With regard +to the latter pursuit, their views are distinctly peculiar. +A sudden, murderous rush in a crowded bar, a quick, sly +blow, and a run away—that is their notion of a manly +combat. In the days of the Tipton Slasher two +Englishmen would fight fairly like bulldogs for an hour +at a stretch; no man thought of crowing about a +chance bit of bloodshed, or even a knock-down, for it +was understood that the combatants should fight on +until one could not rise; then they shook hands, and +were friends. But the brutes whom I now see are +transformed Englishmen; they know that a fair upstanding +contest would not suit them, and their object +is to land one cunning blow, then to make as much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +noise as possible so as to attract attention. It is +cruelly funny to see a gaping blackguard, who has +chanced to give someone a black eye or a swollen nose, +swaggering round like an absurd bantam, and posing +as a sort of athletic champion. The gang are nearly +always full of stories about their miserable scrambling +fights, and anyone might fancy he had got among a +regular corps of paladins to hear them vapour. One +marvellously vile betting person haunts me like a +disease. The animal has a head like a sea-urchin, his +lips are blubbery, his tongue is too big for his mouth, +and his face is like one that you see in a nightmare. +The ugly head is stuck on a body which resembles a +sack of rancid engine grease. This beauty is a fairly +representative specimen of our bold sportsmen. He +is a deft swindler, and I have gazed with blank +innocence while he rooked some courageous simpleton +at tossing. The fat, rancid man can do almost as he +chooses with a handful of coins, and the marvellous +celerity with which sovereigns or halfpence glide +between his podgy fingers is quite fascinating. On the +subjects of adultery and fighting this object is great, +and his foul voice resounds greasily amid our meetings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +of brave sportsmen. He is accompanied by a choice +selection of gay spirits, and I take leave to say that +the popular conception of hell is quite barren and poor +compared with the howling reality that we can show +on any day when a little "sport" is to the fore. I +am tolerant enough, but I do seriously think that +there are certain assemblies which might be wiped out +with advantage to the world by means of a judicious +distribution of prussic acid.</p> + +<p>Among my weaknesses must be numbered a strong +fancy for keeping dogs of various breeds. When you +come to understand the animals you can make friends +of them, and I have lived in perfect contentment for +months at a stretch with no company but my terriers. +A favourite terrier often goes about with me now, and +the other day Mr. Landlord said, with insinuating +softness, <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original lacked the opening double quote.">"We</ins> must have your pup entered for our +coursing meeting." It mattered little to me one way +or the other, so I paid the entrance fee, and forgot all +about the <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'enagagement'.">engagement</ins>. Coursing with terriers is a +very popular "sport" in the south country, and the +squat little white-and-tan dogs are bred with all the +care that used to be bestowed on fine strains of greyhounds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +I cannot quite see where the sport comes +in, but many men of all classes enjoy it, and I have +no mind to find fault with a remarkable institution +which has taken fast root in England. All coursing +is cruel; a hare suffers the extremity of agony from +the moment when she hears the thud of the dogs' feet +until she is whirled round and shaken in those deadly +jaws. I lay once amongst straggling furze while a +hare and two greyhounds rushed down towards me. +Puss had travelled a mile on a Suffolk marsh, and +she was failing fast. As she neared me the greyhounds +made a violent effort, and the foremost one +struck just opposite my hiding-place. Never in my +life have I seen such a picture of agony; the poor +little beast wrung herself sharp round with a scream—such +a scream!—and the dog only succeeded in +snatching a mouthful of fur. He lay down, and the +hare hobbled into the cover. I could see her tremble. +The same sort of torture is inflicted when hares are +bundled out of an enclosure with the rapidity and +precision of machinery. There is a wild flurry, an +agony of one minute or so, and all is over.</p> + +<p>The mystery of man's cruelty is inexplicable to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +me; I feel the mad blood pouring hard when the +quarry rushes away, and the snaky dogs dash from the +slips; no thought of pity enters my mind for a time +because the mysterious wild-man instinct possesses +me, and so I suppose that the primeval hunter is +ignobly represented by the people who go to see +rabbit coursing. We have been refining and refining, +and educating the people for a good while; yet our +popular sports seems to grow more and more cruel. +We do not bait bulls now, but we worry hares and +rabbits by the gross, we massacre scores of pretty +pigeons—sweet little birds that are slaughtered +without a sign of fair play.</p> + +<p>Decidedly the Briton likes the savour of blood to +mingle with his pleasures. A thousand of ordinary +men will gather at Gateshead or Hanley and howl +with delight when two wiry whippets worry a stupefied +rabbit. They are decent fellows in their way, and +they generally have a rigid idea of fairness; but they +fail to see the unfairness of hooking a rabbit out of a +sack and setting him to run for his life in an enclosure +from which he cannot possibly escape. Pastimes +that do not involve the death of something or the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +wagering of money are accounted tame. It is one of +the riddles that make me wish I could not think at all. +I give it up, for I am only a Loafer, and the dark +problems of existence are beyond me.</p> + +<p>Perhaps they are beyond Mr. Herbert Spencer.</p> + +<p>Our ragged regiment met in a wide, quiet field. +Nearly all my costers were about, and they cried +"Wayo!" with cordiality. Half the company on the +field could not muster threepence in the world; many +of them were probably hungry; many were far gone +in drink; but all were eager for "sport." We shall +have some talk presently about the bitter ennui of +the poor man's life. The existence of that deadly +ennui never was brought before me so vividly as it was +when I saw that queer multitude, forgetting hunger, +cold, poverty, pain—and forgetting because they were +about to see some rabbits worried!</p> + +<p>On a low stand stood a broad pair of scales and an +immense hamper. The stand was watched by a red-faced +merryandrew, who gibbered and yelled in a +vigorous manner. A funny reprobate is that old +person. Every hour of his life is given over to the +search for excitement; he is never dull; he has a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +cheery word for all whom he meets; he will drink, +fight, and even make love, with all the ardour of +youth. When there is nothing more exciting to do, +he will drive a trotter for twenty miles at break-neck +pace. When he dies, his life's work may be easily +summed up:—He drank so many quarts of ale; he +killed so many pigeons and rabbits. Nothing more.</p> + +<p>My terrier made a ferocious dash at the big +hamper, and I knew that our victims were there. +Presently the dogs began to arrive, and I was amazed +and amused to see some of the little brutes. They +could no more catch a rabbit on fair ground than they +could pull down a locomotive; but the long railway +journey, the strange field, and the clamorous mob +render poor Bunny almost helpless, and he gives up +his life only too easily. The best of the terriers were +beautiful wretches with iron muscles and a general air +of courageous wickedness. Their bloodthirstiness was +appalling; they knew exactly what was to happen, +and their sharp yells of rapture made a din that set +my head swimming. Each of them writhed and +strained at the collar, and I caught myself wondering +what the poor rabbits thought (can they think?) as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +they heard the wild chiming of that demon pack. In +the country, when a dog gives tongue Bunny sits up +and twirls his ears uneasily; then, even if the bark is +heard from afar off, the little brown beast darts underground. +Alas! there is no friendly burrow in this +bleak field, and there is no chance of escape; for the +merry roughs will soon finish any rabbit that shows +the dogs a clean pair of heels.</p> + +<p>The ceremony of weighing was completed in a +dignified way, and the first brace of dogs went to the +slipper. One was a sprightly smooth terrier, with a +long, richly-marked head; he was quivering with +anticipation, and his demeanour offered a marked +contrast to that of the dour, composed brute pitted +against him. The rabbit was lifted out of the hamper +by one of those greasy nondescript males, who are +always to be seen when pigeon shooting or coursing +is going on. The greasy being held the rabbit by the +ears, and put it temptingly near the dogs. The +sprightly terrier went clean demented; the sullen one +stood with thoughtful earnestness waiting for a chance +to catch the start. When the rabbit was put down it +cowered low and seemed trying to shrink into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +ground; its ears were pressed hard back, its head was +pressed closely to the grass, and it was huddled in an +ecstasy of terror. Of course that is quite usual, but +we practical sportsmen cannot waste time over the +sentimental terrors of a rabbit. The greasy man +uttered a howl, and Bunny started up, ran in a circle, +and then set off for the fence. I was struck by the +animal's mode of running. For hours I have watched +them feeding, at early morning or sundown, and I +have noticed that as they shifted from place to place +they moved with a slow kind of hop, gathering their +hind legs under them at each stride. When Bunny is +on his own ground he is one of the fastest of four-footed +things. He lays himself down to the ground, +and travels at such a terrific pace for about forty +yards that he looks like a mere streak on the ground. +I never yet saw a terrier that could turn a rabbit unless +Bunny was imprudent enough to wander more than +one hundred yards from home. But this wretched +brute in our field was moving at the pace proper to +feeding time, and, judging by its deliberate sluggishness, +it seemed to be inviting death. When the +short pitter-patter of the terriers' feet sounded on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +grass, Bunny made a clumsy attempt to quicken his +pace; the leading dog plunged at him, and by a convulsive +effort the rabbit managed to swirl round and +get clear. Then the second dog shot in; then came +one or two quick, nervous jerks from side to side; +then the beaten creature faltered, and was instantly +seized and swung into the air. A good wild rabbit +would have been half-way across the next field, but +that unhappy invalid had no chance.</p> + +<p>The other courses were of much the same character, +for the rabbit, being used to run on a beaten +path, has not the resource and dexterity of the hare. +One strong specimen distanced the pair of tiny weeds +that were set after him, but the pack of roughs were +whooping at the border of the field, and the doomed +rabbit was soon clutched and pocketed.</p> + +<p>The betting was furious; a few hard-faced, well-dressed +men did their wagering quietly and to heavy +amounts, but the mob yelled and squabbled and cursed +after their usual manner, and they were all ready to +drink when we returned. This is a fair description +of rabbit coursing, and I leave influential persons to +decide as to whether or no it is a useful or improving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +form of entertainment. I have my doubts, but must +be severely impartial. I will say this, however, that +if any one of us had spent the afternoon over a good +novel, or something of that kind, he would have been +taken out of himself, and, when he rose, his mind +would have been filled with quiet and gracious +thoughts. Our gang were suffering from a form of +the lust for blood; they were thirsty, and they were +possessed by that species of excitement which +makes a man ready to turn savage on any, or no, +provocation.</p> + +<p>The bar was like the place of damned souls until +eight o'clock: everybody roared at the top of his +voice; nobody listened to anybody else, and everybody +drank more or less feverishly. We had a supper to +celebrate the destruction of the rabbits, and afterwards +the truculent gentlemen, who had bellowed so +vigorously in the field, sang sentimental songs about +"Mother, dear mother," "Stay with me, my darling, +stay," or patriotic songs referring to an article of +drapery known as "The Flag of Old Hengland."</p> + +<p>For half-an-hour our intricate choruses resounded +as we went in groups deviously homeward, and a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +members of our sporting flock dotted the paths at +wide intervals.</p> + +<p>That kind of thing goes on all over the country in +the winter time. It is not for me to preach, but I +must say that it seems to be a barren kind of game. +Can any man of the crowd think kindly or clearly +about any subject under the sun? I fancy not. My +own real idea of the character of the various mobs +that see the rabbits die is such that I could not +venture to frame it in words. The sport is so mean, +so trivial, so purposeless, that I should go a long way +to avoid seeing it now that I know the subject +well.</p> + +<p>And that unspeakably atrocious pettiness forms the +only relaxation of a very considerable number of +Englishmen. If any member of a corporation were +to propose that a great hall should be opened free, +and that good music should be provided at the +expense of the community, I suppose there would be +a deal of grumbling; but I am ready to prove that +expenses indirectly caused by our mad "sporting" +would more than cover the cost of a rational spell of +pleasure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>Honourable gentlemen and worthy aldermen are +allowing a great mass of people to remain in a +brutalised condition; those people only derive pleasure +from the suffering of dumb creatures.</p> + +<p>How will it be if the callous crew take it into their +heads at some or other to show restiveness? Will they +deal gently or thoughtfully with those against whom +their enmity is turned? Certainly their education by +no means tends to foster gentleness and thoughtfulness. +If I were a statesman instead of a Loafer, I +reckon I should try might and main to humanise +those neglected folk—and they <i>are</i> neglected—before +they teach some of us a terrific lesson.</p> + +<p>I see that one "Walter Besant" has some capital +notions concerning the subject which I have ventured +to touch on. If he were a rough—as I am during +much of my time—he would be able to talk more +to the purpose. Still, I deliberately say that that +novelist, who is often treated as a moony creature, is +a very wise and practical statesman, and he has used +his opportunities well. If powerful people do not very +soon pay heed to his message, they will have reason +for regret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>The worst of it is that one is constantly being +forced to wonder whether culture is of any use. For +instance, on the day after the coursing, I fell in with +a smart lad who loafs about race meetings, and who +sometimes visits the landlord's parlour at the +Chequers. He has been a year out of Oxford, and +he is rather a pretty hand at classics; yet he tries to +look and talk like a jockey, and his mother has to +keep him because he won't do any work. A shrewd +little thing he is, and this is how we talked:—</p> + +<p>"Shall I drive you over to the meeting to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"If you like."</p> + +<p>"We can do a bit together if you'll dress yourself +decently. Barrett says there's a new hunter coming +out. It could win the Cesarewitch with 8st. 4lb., but +they mean keeping his hunter's certificate. Put a bit +on."</p> + +<p>"Wait till we see."</p> + +<p>"Lord! If I could get the mater to part—only a +pony—I'd buy a satchel and start bookmaking in the +half-crown ring myself. It's Tom Tiddler's ground if +you've got a nut on you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Queer work for a 'Varsity man?"</p> + +<p>"Deed sight better than bear-leading, or going +usher in a school. Fun! Change! Fly about! +What more do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Do you like to hear the ring curse? Dick and +Alf often make me goose-skinned."</p> + +<p>"What matter, so you cop the ready?"</p> + +<p>"Do you read now?"</p> + +<p>"Not such a Juggins. I think my Oxford time +was all wasted. Of course, I liked to hear Jowett +palaver, and it was quiet and nice enough; but give +me life. Bet all day; dinner at the Rainbow, Pav., +or Trocadéro, and Globe to finish up. That's life!"</p> + +<p>If anyone had chances this youth had them, and +now his ambition is to bet half-crowns with the riddlings +of Creation. This universe is getting to be a +little too much for me. Come down, pipe; I shall go +in the Chequers parlour to-night, and play the settled +citizen.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MERRY_JERRY_AND_HIS_FRIENDS" id="MERRY_JERRY_AND_HIS_FRIENDS"></a>MERRY JERRY AND HIS FRIENDS.</h2> + + +<p>I never saw such a cheerful face as Jerry's. +Master Blackey can smile and smile; he can +smile on me even now, though I know almost to a +certainty that it was he who left that discoloured ring +round my throat not long ago. But Blackey can +scowl also, whereas Jerry never ceases to look +benignant and jolly. He is a fine young fellow is +Jerry, six feet high, straight as a lance, ruddy, clear-skinned, +and with the bluest, brightest eye you can +see. When he walks he is upright and stately as the +best of Guardsmen, without any military stiffness; +when he spars he is active as a leopard, and his mode +of landing with his left is at once terrible and artistic. +Sometimes he drinks a little too much, and then his +sweet smile becomes fatuous, but he never is unpleasant. +The girls from the factory admire him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +sincerely; they call him Merry Jerry, and he accepts +their homage with serenity. He never takes the +trouble to show any deference towards his admirers; +their amorous glances and giggling are inevitable +tributes to his fascinations, and he takes it all as a +matter of course. Like Blackey and the Ramper, +Jerry never does any work, and he is supposed to have +private means. His speech is quite correct, and even +elegant, and although he does not converse on exalted +topics, he is a singularly pleasant companion in his +way. Most of his talk is about horse-racing, and he +never reads anything but the sporting papers. In that +taste he resembles most of those who go to The +Chequers. The wrangling, the cursing, the whispered +confidences that make up the nightly volume of noise +nearly all have reference to racing subjects. The +raggedest wretch at the bar puts on horsey airs when +any great race is to be decided; he may not know a +horse from a mule, but he invariably volunteers his +opinion, and if he can raise a shilling he backs his +fancy. Polite gentlemen in Parliament and elsewhere +do not appear to know that there are something like +one million British adults whose chief interest in life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +(apart from their necessary daily work) is centred on +racing. I think I know almost every town in England, +and I never yet in all my wanderings settled at an inn +without finding that betting of some sort or other +formed the main subject of conversation. Hundreds +of times—literally hundreds—I have known whole +evenings devoted to discussing the odds. The +gamblers were usually men who did not care to see +horses gallop; they chatted about names, and that +satisfied them. A clerk, a mechanic, a tradesman, a +traveller, a publican asks his friend what he has done +over such and such a race, just as he asks after the +friend's health. It is taken for granted that everybody +bets, and really intelligent fellows will stare at +you in astonishment if you say that you are not +interested in the result of a race. If I chose to make +a book—only dealing in small sums—I could contrive +to win a fair amount every week by merely "betting +to figures." The bookmaker does not need to visit a +racecourse; he is required to work out a sort of +algebraical problem on each race, and, by exercising a +little shrewdness, he may leave himself a small balance +on every event. Small sums in silver are always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +forthcoming to almost any extent, and a clever man +who has no more than £100 capital to start with may +pitch his tent almost anywhere, and make sure of +getting plenty of custom. People speak of the Italians +as gamblers, but in Italy gambling is not nearly so +prevalent as in England. In Manchester alone one +sporting journal has a morning and evening edition, +and there are daily papers in most of the large Yorkshire +towns. In the North-country I have often +watched the workmen during the breakfast half-hour, +and found that they did not care a rush for anything +in the paper save the sporting news. In London +two great journals are published daily, and twice a +week each of them issues a double number. Every +line of these papers is devoted to sport, and each of +them is a rich estate to the proprietor.</p> + +<p>The mania for betting grows more acute every day, +the number of wealthy bookmakers increases, and the +national demoralisation has reached a depth which +would seem inconceivable to anyone who has not +lived with all sorts and conditions of men. A racing +man is apt to become incapable of concentrating his +mind on anything except his one pursuit. Hundreds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +of thoughtful and cultured people race a little and bet +a little by way of relaxation; but these take no harm. +It is the ignorant, ill-balanced folk, without higher +interests, who suffer.</p> + +<p>Well-meaning persons spend money on respectable +institutes for working men, but the men do not care +for staid, dull proceedings after their work is over; +they want excitement. A moderately heavy bet +supplies them with a topic for conversation; it gives +them all the keen pleasures of anticipation as the day +of the race draws near, and when they open the paper +to see the final result they are thrilled just as a +gambler is thrilled when he throws the dice. No +wonder that the mild and moral places of recreation +are left empty; no wonder that the public-houses are +well filled. If I were asked to name two things which +interest the English nation to the supreme degree, I +should say—first, Sport; second, Drink. If the +strongest Ministry that ever took office attempted to +make betting a criminal offence, they would be turned +out in a month. Betting is now not a casual amusement, +but a serious national pursuit. The perfect +honesty with which payments are made by agents is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +amazing. A man who bets on commission for others +may have £100,000 to lay out on a race; every +farthing is accounted for, and dishonesty among the +higher grades of the betting brotherhood is practically +unknown. It is this rigid observance of the point of +honour that tempts people like our gang in The +Chequers bar to risk their shillings; they know that if +they make a right guess their payment is safe. The +statesman who called the turf "a vast instrument of +national demoralization" was quite right, and if he +could have lived to take a tour round the country in +this year of grace he would have seen the flower of +his nation given over to mean frivolity.</p> + +<p>Jerry has tutored me in racing matters. He has +not a thought that is not derived from the columns of +the sporting prints, and his life is passed mainly in +searching like a staunch terrier for "certainties." +When he is disposed to be communicative, he soon +gathers quite an audience in The Chequers, and should +he drop a phrase like "George Robinson said to me, +'I've made my own book for Highflyer,'" or "Charley +White, the Duke's Motto, wouldn't lay Mountebank +any more," the awe-stricken costers stare. Here is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +man, a regular toff, and no error—a man who knows +such Ringmen as Robinson and White—and yet he +will speak to ordinary coves without exhibiting the +least pride!</p> + +<p>Jerry has taken me round to the best haunts where +gallant sportsmen assemble, and for some mysterious +reason, his escort has secured for me the most +flattering deference. Queer holes he knows by the +score. I thought I had seen most things; but I find +I am a babe compared with Jerry. He once said to +me, "Would you like to see a couple of lads set-to? +Real good 'uns." I had seen a great number of +encounters; but my two pounds handed over to Jerry +procured me a sight of a battle which was the most +desperate affair I ever witnessed. But for the close, +oppressive atmosphere of the room where the fight +took place, the whole business would have been +interesting. The spectators were well dressed and +well behaved, the boxers were beautiful athletes, and +there was nothing repulsive about the swift exchange +of lightning blows until the baking heat began to tell +on the men; then it was disagreeable to see two +gallant fellows panting and labouring for breath. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +often hear that boxing is discredited. Rubbish! Ask +Jerry about that, and you will learn that any company +of men who care to subscribe £25 may see a combat +wherein science, courage, and endurance are all +displayed lavishly.</p> + +<p>Jerry was much interested in dog fighting, which +latter pleasing pastime is enjoyed quite freely in +London to an extent that would amaze the gentlemen +who rejoice over the decline of brutality in Britain.</p> + +<p>The competitive instinct which once found vent in +fighting and conquest now works on other lines. The +Englishman must be engaged in a contest, or he is +unhappy, and, since he cannot now compete sword to +sword with his fellow-creatures, he fights purse to +purse instead. All these things I knew in a vague +way, but Jerry has made my knowledge definite and +secure.</p> + +<p>As for the man himself, I soon found that his +"private means" were taken in various ways from +other people's pockets. During a chat, he said, +"You know you're not what you pretend to be. You +hang about there, and you bet, but you never bet +enough to make anything at it. You must have the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +coins, for I've seen you spend a quid in two hours in +the skittle-alley. But you don't seem to best anybody. +What <i>is</i> your game? You may as well tell +me."</p> + +<p>"I amuse myself in my own way, and I don't care +to let the school know much about me."</p> + +<p>"Well, my game's very simple. Only a juggins or +a horse ever works, and I don't intend to do any. +It's just as easy to be idle as not. You take the +fellows in town that make their living after dark, and +you always see them having good times. There's +some red-hot ones up—you know where—in Piccadilly; +they never get about till close on dinner time, but they +make up for lost time when they <i>are</i> about. I should +like to work with you. If you were to come out a bit +flash like me, why, with your looks and your talk and +that <i>educated</i> kind of way you've got, you might coin +money."</p> + +<p>"But you wouldn't care to work the Embankment +and run the risk of the cat, as those Piccadilly chaps +do?"</p> + +<p>"No fear. But you could do better than that. +When you're boozed you're not in it—you lose your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +head; but when you're right you make fellows wonder +what you are. Sink me! A flat would pal on to you +in half an hour if you coaxed him, as you can +do it."</p> + +<p>Jerry is an amusing philosopher, who could only have +been developed in the rottenness of a decadence. +Fancy an able-bodied, attractive fellow living with ease +from day to day without doing a stroke of honest +labour. He keeps clear of the police; he gratifies +every want, yet he has the intellect of a flash potman +and the manners of a valet. The tribe swarm in this +city, and I reckon that they will teach us something +when the overturn comes. They are strong and +cunning predatory animals, who will direct weak and +stupid predatory animals, and when the entire predatory +tribe smash the flimsy bonds with which +society holds them in check for the present, then +stand by for ugly times.</p> + +<p>I hate the revolver, but I am glad that I took to +carrying one in time. Jerry and I grew so intimate, +and I saw so much of his inner mind, that I judged it +better to make no midnight excursions in his company +without being ready for accidents. He is most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +humorous when he has wine in him, and his humour +is a shade too grim for my taste.</p> + +<p>We came home lately in a cab, after seeing a pretty +little light-weight from Birmingham receive a severe +dressing at the hands of a pocket Hercules from +Bethnal Green. Jerry was in wild spirits, and his +usual charming smile had broadened into a grin. +Nothing would suit him but that I should go to his +rooms.</p> + +<p>"My aunt keeps house for me, and she's sure to be +up, and my sister's there as well."</p> + +<p>The notion of Jerry's dwelling calmly with his aunt +and his sister was very touching, and my curiosity was +roused. The aunt turned out to be a placid woman +with a low voice; the sister was too florid and loud +for my fancy. We played at whist, and in the +intervals between the games we tested Jerry's wine. +He has a singularly good selection. The florid nymph +was reserved and coy at first, but as the wine mounted +she rather astonished me by her choice of expletives. +The merry one had become business-like, and that +sweet smile was gone. As I looked at him I gradually +understood that I had once more made a fool of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +myself, and I vowed that if I got out safely I would go +to The Chequers no more. Over-confidence is a bad +fault in a prize-fighter: it is worse than that in the +case of a man who wishes to hold his own among +London sharps. Blackey had the best of me, and +now I was in for a much worse business, Jerry the +Amiable drank ostentatiously, and he was evidently +priming himself; the sister waxed effusive, and the +aunt took care that the points were steadily increased. +In the early morning the Amiable suggested that I +should stay, but I would not have slept under the +same roof with him for gold. He then ordered his +relatives off to bed, and they slunk away rather like +dogs than ladies. Jerry was a masterful man. When +all was quiet I rose to take my hat, whereupon Jerry +remarked, "You're not going that way, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Must go home before it's too light."</p> + +<p>"You'll have another drink?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"But you will!"</p> + +<p>The Amiable was really extremely exacting.</p> + +<p>"Thanks. Good morning."</p> + +<p>Jerry locked the door, and put his back to it. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +he softly said, "You've come home and taken my +liquor; you flirt with my sister, and you're going away +without leaving so much as a bit of gold. I'm not +such a fool as Blackey. I know your aunt. I can +send a newspaper to her address, and cook <i>your</i> goose. +Suppose I make a row. I can do that, and we'll both +be taken up for brawling outside a house of ill-fame. +It won't matter to me; I'm used to it. But you'll be +spoofed. Now, share up with an old pal, and I'll keep +dark."</p> + +<p>I had contrived to edge away from him, and I had +time to produce the detestable firearm in a leisurely +way.</p> + +<p>"You're very kind, Jerry, my lad. I'll stay at this +side of the room, and I shan't fire so long as you keep +still. If you try to strike or put your hand in your +pocket I shall pull on you; If you care to raise your +arms over your head and move to the right-hand +corner of the room I'll go quietly."</p> + +<p>Jerry reckoned up all the chances and finally edged +away from the door.</p> + +<p>"Hands up, Jerry."</p> + +<p>He obeyed, and I escaped into the street. Jerry is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +a coward at bottom, or he might have known that I +dare not fire.</p> + +<p>He met me the very next day, and he wore the +usual free, gay smile. He held out his hand and +flashed his teeth: "Forget that nonsense last night, +old pal. When the booze is in—you know the rest. +I was only having a lark. What'll you have? We +shall be glad to see you round again."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Landlord had dropped a word to me only +half an hour before. Said Mr. Landlord, in answer to +a little careless pumping, "Oh, Jerry? Well, it ain't +no business of mine, but if it wasn't for the girls he'd +have mighty few flash top-coats, nor beefsteaks neither +for that matter."</p> + +<p>Alas! Jerry, the smiling, delightful youth, is one +of those odious pests who hang about in sporting +company, and who are contemned and shunned by +respectable racing men. Said a grave turfite to me +last week, "Call <i>those</i> sportsmen! I'd—I'd—" but +he could not invent a doom horrid enough for them, so +he changed the subject with a mighty snort.</p> + +<p>There is no knowing what gentlemen like Jerry will +do. To call them scoundrels is to flatter them: they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +are brigands, and the knifing, lounging rascals of +Sicily and Calabria are mere children in villany +compared with their English imitators. Places like +The Chequers are the hunting-grounds of creatures +like Jerry, and the bait of drink draws the victims +thither ready to be sacrificed. A month ago four of +Jerry's gang most heartlessly robbed a publican who +had sold his business. He had the purchase-money +in his pocket, and the fellows drugged him. He ought +to have known better, seeing how often he had watched +the brigands operating on other people; but as he lost +£700, and as his assailants are still at large with their +shares of the spoil, we must not reproach him or add +to his misery.</p> + +<p>I picked out Jerry for portraiture because he is a +fairly typical specimen of a bad—a very bad—set. +When the history of our decline and fall comes to be +Written by some Australian Gibbon, the historian may +choose the British bully and turfite to set alongside +of the awful creatures who preyed on the rich fools of +wicked old Rome.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_GENTLEMAN_THE_DOCTOR_AND_DICKY" id="THE_GENTLEMAN_THE_DOCTOR_AND_DICKY"></a>THE GENTLEMAN, THE DOCTOR, AND DICKY.</h2> + +<p>We have had enough of the roughs for a time, and +I want now to deal with a few of the wrecks +that I see—wrecks that started their voyage with +every promise of prosperity. Let no young fellow +who reads what follows fancy that he is safe. He +may be laborious; an unguarded moment after a spell +of severe work may see him take the first step to ruin. +He may be brilliant: his brilliancy of intellect, by +causing him to be courted, may lead him into idleness, +and idleness is the bed whereon parasitic vices +flourish rankly. Take warning.</p> + +<p>I was invited to go for a drive, but I had letters to +write, and said so. A quiet old man who was sitting +in the darkest corner of the bar spoke to me softly, +"If your letters are merely about ordinary business,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +you may dictate them to me here, and I will transcribe +them and send them off." I replied that I could do +them as quickly myself. The old man smiled. +"You do not send letters in shorthand. I can take +a hundred and forty words a minute, and you can do +your correspondence and go away." The oddity of +the proposal attracted me. I agreed to dictate. The +old man took out his notebook, and in ten minutes the +work was done. We came back in an hour, and by +that time each letter was transcribed in a beautiful, +delicate longhand. I handed the scribe a shilling, +and he was satisfied. The Gentleman, as we called +him, writes letters for anyone who can spare him a +glass of liquor or a few coppers; but I had never +tested his skill before. There was no one in the bar, +so I sat down beside the old man, and we talked.</p> + +<p>"You seem wonderfully clever at shorthand. I am +surprised that you haven't permanent work."</p> + +<p>"It would do me little good. I can go on for a +long time, but when my fit comes on me I am not +long in losing any job. They won't have me, friend—they +won't have me."</p> + +<p>"You've been well employed, then, in your time?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p><ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original lacked the opening double quote.">"No one better.</ins> If I had command of myself, I +might have done as well in my way as my brother has +in his. I could beat him once, and I was quite as +industrious as he was; but, when I came to the crossroads, +I took the wrong turning, and here I am."</p> + +<p>"May I ask how your brother succeeded? I mean—what +is he?"</p> + +<p>"He is Chief Justice ——."</p> + +<p>I found that this was quite true; indeed, the Gentleman +was one of the most veracious men I have +known.</p> + +<p>"Does your brother know how you are faring?"</p> + +<p>"He did know, but I never trouble him. He was +a good fellow to me, and I have never worried him for +years. I prefer to be dead to the world. I have +haunted this place, as you know, for six months; to-morrow +I may make a change, and live in another +sty."</p> + +<p>"But surely you could get chance work that would +keep you in decent clothes and food."</p> + +<p>"I do get many chance jobs; but if the money +amounts to much I am apt to be taken up as drunk +and incapable."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>The sweet, quiet smile which accompanied this +amazing statement was touching. The old man had +a fine, thoughtful face, and only a slight bulbousness +of the nose gave sign of his failing. Properly dressed, +he would have looked like a professor, or doctor, or +something of that kind. As it was, his air of good +breeding and culture quite accounted for the name the +people gave him. I should have found it impossible +to imagine him in a police-cell had I not been a midnight +wanderer for long.</p> + +<p>"How did you come to learn shorthand?"</p> + +<p>"My father was a solicitor in large practice, and I +found I could assist him with the confidential correspondence, +so I took lessons in White's system for a +year. My father said I was his right hand. Ah! +He gave me ten pounds and two days' holiday at +Brighton when I took down his first letter."</p> + +<p>"Have you been a solicitor?"</p> + +<p>"No. I had an idea of putting my name down at +one of the Inns, but I went wrong before anything +came of the affair."</p> + +<p>"You say you have had good employment. But +how did you contrive to separate from your father?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! I wore out his patience. I was so successful +that I thought it safe to toast my success. +We were in a south-country town—Sussex, you know—and +I began by hanging about the hotel in the +market-place. Then I played cards at night with +some of the fast hands, and was useless and shaky in +the mornings. Then I began to have periodical fits of +drunkenness; then I became quite untrustworthy, and +last of all I robbed my father during a bad fit, and we +parted."</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"I picked up odd jobs for newspapers, or sponged +on my brother. At last I was sent to the House as +reporter, and did very well until one night when +Palmerston was expected to make an important +speech. My turn came, and I was blind and helpless. +Since then I have been in place after place, but the +end was always the same, and I have learned that I +am a hopeless, worthless wretch."</p> + +<p>"But couldn't your brother, for his own credit's +sake, keep you in his house and put you under +treatment?"</p> + +<p>"My good friend, I should die under it. I revel in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +degradation. I luxuriate in self-contempt. My time +is short, and I want to pass it away speedily. This +life suits me, for I seldom have my senses, and there +is only the early morning to dread. I think then—think, +think, think. Until I can scrape together my +first liquor I see ugly things. I should be in my own +town with my grandchildren round me. I might have +been on the Bench, like my brother, and all men +would have respected me as they do him. Sons and +daughters would have gathered round me when I came +to my last hour. I gave it all up in order to sluice +my throat with brandy and gin. That is the way I +think in the morning. Then I take a glass, or beg +one, as I shall from you presently, and then I forget. +Once I went out to commit suicide, and took three +whiskies to string my nerve up. In two minutes I +was laughing at a Punch and Judy show. If you'll +kindly order a quartern of gin in a pint glass for me, +I'll fill it up and be quite content all the evening. No +one ill-uses me. I'm a soft, harmless, disreputable +old ne'er-do-well. That is all."</p> + +<p>We drank, and then the Gentleman said, "You +come here a good deal too much. Your hand was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +quite right yesterday morning. Usually you keep +right, and I really don't know how far you are <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original lacked the ending period.">touched.</ins> +If I had your youth and your appearance, I think I +should save myself in time by a bold step. Join the +temperance people and work publicly; then you are +committed, and you can't step back."</p> + +<p>"But you don't think that I am likely to go to the +dogs? I loaf around here because I have no +ambition, and my life was settled for me; but I have +command over myself."</p> + +<p>"You <i>had</i> command over yourself, you mean. I +think you are in great danger—very great indeed. +My good friend, there are <i>no</i> exceptions. Meet me +to-night, or say to-morrow, as I am to be drunk to-night; +go to the beer-house at the end of my street, +and I'll show you something."</p> + +<p>Just then the Ramper came up and hailed the +Gentleman. "Here you old swine! Are you sober +enough to scratch off a letter?"</p> + +<p>"I'm all right."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, write to the usual, and tell him to +put me on half-a-quid Sunshine, and half-a-quid Dartmoor +a shop—s.p. both."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thus our <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'convervation'.">conversation</ins> was stopped, and the brother +of a judge earned twopence by writing a letter for a +racecourse thief.</p> + +<p>Next night I went to a very shady public-house, and +the Gentleman led me into a dirty room, where a little +old man was sitting alone. The man was crooked, +wizened, weak, and his bare toes stuck out of both +shoes; his half-rotten frock coat gaped at the breast +and showed that he had no shirt on; his hat must +have been picked up from a dustheap, for it was filthy, +and broken in three or four places.</p> + +<p>"For mercy's sake, give me a mouthful of something!" +said this object, turning the face of a mummy +towards me. His dim eyes were rheumy, and his chin +trembled. An awful sight!</p> + +<p>In a flash I remembered him, and cried, "What, +Doctor!"</p> + +<p>He said, "I don't know you; my memory's gone. +Send for twopenn'orth or a penn'orth of beer. Pray do."</p> + +<p>My young friends, that man who begged for a +pennyworth of muddy ale was first of all a brilliant +soldier, then a brilliant lawyer, then a brilliant +historian. His doctor's degree—he was Doctor of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +Laws—was gained by fair hard work. Think of +that, and then look at my picture of the sodden, +filthy scarecrow! Yes; that man began my education, +and had I only gone straight on I should not +be loafing about The Chequers. You ask how he +could have anything to do with my education? Well, +long ago I was a little bookworm, living in a lonely +country house, and I had the run of some good +shelves. I was only nine years old, but a huge history +in two volumes attracted me most. I read and +read that book until I could repeat whole pages easily, +and even now I can go off at score if you give me a +start.</p> + +<p>The Scarecrow wrote that history!</p> + +<p>Years afterwards I was fighting my way in London, +and had charge of a journal which made a name in its +day. Sometimes I had to deal with a message from +a Minister of State, sometimes with a petition from a +starving penny-a-liner. One day a little man was +shown into my room, which room was instantly scented +with whisky. He was well introduced, and I said, +"Are you the Doctor —— who wrote the 'History +of ——'?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am, sir, and proud I shall be to write for +you."</p> + +<p>"What can you do?"</p> + +<p>"Here's a specimen."</p> + +<p>The MS. was a bundle of bills from a public-house, +and the blank side was utilised. The Doctor never +wasted money on paper when he could avoid it. The +stuff was feeble, involved, useless. My face must +have fallen, for the piteous Scarecrow said, "I have +not your approval."</p> + +<p>"We cannot use this."</p> + +<p>Bending forward and clasping his hands, he said, +"Could you not give me two shillings for it? There +are two columns good. A shilling a column; surely +that can't hurt you."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you two shillings, and you can come +back again if you are needy, but the MS. is of no use +to us."</p> + +<p>He took the money, and returned again and again +for more. I found that he used to put fourpence in +one pocket to meet the expense of his lodging-house +bed, and he bought ten two-pennyworths of gin with +the rest of the money. He always asked for two shillings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +and always got it. I was not responsible for +his mode of spending it.</p> + +<p>And now the Doctor had turned up in the region of +The Chequers. He was piteously, doggishly thankful +for his drink, and he cried as he bleated out his +prayers for my good health. Men cry readily when +they come to be in the Doctor's condition. I asked +him to take some soup. "I'm no great eater," he +said; "but I'd like just one more with you—only +one."</p> + +<p>"Where do you lodge, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth, I'm forced to put up with a +berth in the old fowl-house at the bottom of the +garden here. They let me stay there, but 'tis cold—cold."</p> + +<p>"Do you work at all now?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes. But there is little doing—very little."</p> + +<p>"How did you come to cease practising at the Bar, +Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"How do I come to be here? 'Tis the old thing—the +old thing—and has been all along."</p> + +<p>This poor wretch could not be allowed to go about +half-naked, so I let the potman run out and get him a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +slop suit. (The Doctor sold the clothes next day for +half-a-crown, and was speechless when I went to see +him.) A hopeless, helpless wretch was the Doctor—the +most hopeless I ever knew. He entered the +army, early in life, and for a time he was petted and +courted in Dublin society. The man was handsome, +accomplished, and brilliantly clever, and success +seemed to follow him. He sold out of the army and +went to the Bar, where he succeeded during many +years. No one could have lived a happier, fuller, or +more fruitful life than he did before he slid into loose +habits. His only pastime was the pursuit of literature, +and he finished his big history of a certain great +war while he was in full practice at the Chancery Bar. +Power seemed to reside in him; fortune poured gifts +on him; and he lost all. In an incredibly short +space of time he drank away his practice, his reputation, +his hopes of high honour, his last penny.</p> + +<p>Thus it was that my historian came to beg of me +for that muddy penn'orth.</p> + +<p>I may as well finish the Doctor's story. If I were +writing fiction the tale would be scouted as improbable, +yet I am going to state plain facts. A firm of lawyers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +hunted up the Doctor, and informed him that he had +succeeded to the sum of £30,000. There was no +mistake about the matter; the long years of vile degradation, +the rags, the squalor, the scorn, of men were +all to disappear. The solicitors dressed the Doctor +properly and advanced him money; he set off for Ireland +to make some necessary arrangements, and he +solemnly swore that he would become a total abstainer. +At Swindon he chose to break his journey, +took to drinking, and kept on for many hours. It was +long since he had had such a chance of unlimited +drink, and he greedily seized it. When he went to +bed he took a bottle with him, and in the morning he +was dead. Suffocated by alcohol, they said. He had +no living soul related to him, and I believe his money +went to the Crown.</p> + +<p>I have written this last fragment on separate +sheets, and my journal is interleaved for the first time.</p> + +<p>The Gentleman and I became very friendly. I +never tried to keep him from drinking: it was useless. +When he was sober his company was pleasant, and I +was very sorry when he mysteriously migrated, and +many of our crew missed his help badly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some time after the Gentleman's flight, I was in a +common lodging-house in Holborn, and in the kitchen +I met a delightful vagabond of a Frenchman with +whom I had a long talk. He happened to say, "One +of our old friends died last week. He was a good +man, and very well bred. Figure it to yourself, he +was brother of one of your judges!" Then I knew +that the Gentleman had gone. I wish I could have +seen him again. As I look back at the old leaves of +my journal I seem to see that sweet, patient smile +which he wore as he told the story of his fall. There +are some things almost too sad to bear thinking about. +This is one.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Our friend Dicky had a bad misfortune lately. I +should say that Dicky is an oldish man, who drifted +into this ugly quarter some time ago, and took his +place in the parlour, which is a room that I now +prefer to the bar. I was holding a friendly discussion +with a butcher when a strident voice said, "You are +absolutely and irredeemably ignorant of the rudiments +of your subject." I started. Where had I heard +that voice before? The man was clad in an old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +shooting-jacket; his trousers were out at the knee, +and his linen was very dirty; yet there was a something +about him—a kind of distinction—which was +impressive. After launching his expression of contempt +at us, he buried his face in his pot and took a +mighty drink. Slowly my memory aided me, and +under that knobby, pustuled skin I <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'fraced'.">traced</ins> the features +of Dicky Nash, the most dreaded political journalist of +my time. Often I had heard that voice roaring blasphemies +with a vigour that no other man could equal; +often had I seen that sturdy form extended beside the +editorial chair, while the fumes in the office told tales +as to the cause of the fall. And now here was Dicky—ragged, +dirty, and evidently down on his luck. I +soon made friends with him by owning his superior +authority, and he kindly took a quart of ale at my expense. +This was a man who used to earn £2,000 a +year after he resigned his University fellowship. He +was the friend and adviser of statesmen; he might +have ended as a Cabinet Minister, for no man ever +succeeded in gauging the extent of his miraculous +ability; he seemed to be the most powerful, as +well as the most dreaded man in England. Woe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +is me! We had to carry him up to bed; and he +stayed on until he spent a three-guinea cheque, +which Mr. Landlord cashed for him.</p> + +<p>I knew no good would come of his Fleet-street +games, though he used to laugh things off himself. +He would come in about seven in the evening, and +seat himself at his table. Then he would hiccup, +"Can't write politics; no good. Give us a nice light +subject."</p> + +<p>"Try an article on the country at this season of +the year."</p> + +<p>"Good. I can't hold the damned pen. You sit +down, I'll dictate: In this refulgent season, when the +barred clouds bloom the soft dying day, it is pleasant +to wander by the purple hedgerows where the stars of +the (What damned flower is it that twinkles now? +What do you say? Ragged Robin? Not poetic +enough. Clematis? That'll do. Damn it, ride on!)—the +stars of the clematis modestly twinkle, and the +trailing—(What the h—— is it that trails? Honeysuckle? +Good. Weigh in!)—trailing honeysuckle +flings down that rich scent that falls like sweet music +on the nerves.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so on. He managed in this way to turn out +the regulation column of flummery, but I knew it +could not last. And now he had come to be a sot and +an outcast. Worse has befallen him. He screwed +up his nerve to write an article in the old style, and I +helped him by acting as amanuensis. He violently +attacked an editor who had persistently befriended +him; then he wrote a London Letter for that editor's +paper; then he sent the violent attack away in the envelope +intended for the letter. There was a terrible +quarrel.</p> + +<p>So far did the Gentleman, the Doctor, and Dicky +come down. I may say that Dicky, the companion of +statesmen, the pride of his university, died of cold and +hunger in a cellar in the Borough. Oh, young man, +boast not of thy strength!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="POACHERS_AND_NIGHTBIRDS" id="POACHERS_AND_NIGHTBIRDS"></a>POACHERS AND NIGHTBIRDS.</h2> + +<p>The Chequers stands in a very nasty place, yet we +are within easy distance of a park which swarms +with game. This game is preserved for the amusement +of a royal duke, who is kind enough to draw +about twelve thousand a year from the admiring taxpayer. +He has not rendered any very brilliant service +to his adopted country, unless we reckon his nearly +causing the loss of the battle of Alma as a national +benefit. He wept piteously during the battle of +Inkerman when the Guards got into a warm corner, +but, although he is pleasingly merciful towards Russians, +he is most courageous in his assaults on +pheasants and rabbits, and the country provides him +with the finest sporting ground in England. I should not +like to say how many men make money by poaching in +the park, but we have a regular school of them at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +The Chequers, and they seem to pick up a fair amount +of drink money. The temptation is great. Every one +of these poaching fellows has the hunter's instinct +strongly developed, and neither fines nor gaol can +frighten them. The keepers catch one after another, +but the work goes on all the same. You cannot stop +men from poaching, and there is an end of the matter. +You may shout <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'youself'.">yourself</ins> hoarse in trying to bring a +greyhound to heel after he sights a hare; but the dog +<i>cannot</i> obey you, for he is an automaton. The human +predatory animal has his share of reason, but he also +is automatic to some degree, and he will hunt in spite +of all perils and all punishments when he sights his +prey. One comic old rascal whom I know well has +been caught thirty times and imprisoned eight times. +While he is in gaol he always occupies himself in +composing songs in praise of poaching, and on the +evening of his release he is invariably called on to +furnish the company in the tap-room with his new +composition. He cannot read or write, but he learns +his songs by heart, and I have taken down a large +number of them from his own lips. The things are +much like Jemmy Catnach's stuff, so far as rhyme and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +rhythm are concerned, but they are interesting on account +of the sly exultation that runs through them.</p> + +<p>In one poem the lawless bard gives an account of a +day's life in gaol, and his coarse phrases make you +almost feel the cold and hunger. Here are some scraps +from this descriptive work:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Till seven we walk around the yard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a man all to you guard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you put your hand out so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untoe the guv'nor you must go;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eight o'clock is our breakfast hour,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those wittles they do soon devour;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! dear me, how they eat and stuff,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lave off with less than half enough.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nine o'clock you mount the mill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That you mayn't cramp from settin' still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that be ever so against your will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must mount on the traädin' mill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is a turnkey that you'll find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is a raskill most unkind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To rob poor prisoners he is that man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To chaäte poor prisoners where he can.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At eleven o'clock we march upstairs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear the parson read the prayers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then we are locked into a pen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's almost like a lion's den.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's iron bars big round as your thigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make you of a prison shy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At twelve o'clock the turnkey come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The locks and bolts sound like a drum.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span><br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you be ever so full of game,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The traädin' mill it will you tame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At one you mount the mill again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is labour all in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that be ever so wrong or right,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You must traäde till six at <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original lacked the ending period.">night.</ins><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thursdays we have a jubal fraä<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wi' bread and cheese for all the <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original lacked the ending period.">day.</ins><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'll tell you raälly, without consate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a hungry pig 'tis a charmin' bait.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At six you're locked into your cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There until the mornin' dwell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's a bed o' straw all to lay on,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's Hobson's choice, there's that or none."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That is a bleak picture; but the old man winds up +by bidding all his mates "go it again, my merry boys, +and never mind if they you taäke." He told me that +on several occasions he was out ferreting, or with his +lurcher, on the next night after coming out of prison. +Can you keep such a fellow out of a well-stocked +park? He likes the money that he gets for game, +but what he likes far better is the wild pleasure of +seeing the deadly dogs wind on the trail of the doomed +quarry; he likes the danger, the strategy, the +gambling chances.</p> + +<p>One night I got this old man to drive me about for +some hours. He is a smart hand with horses, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +when I said, "Can you manage without lamps in this +dark?"—he answered, "I could find my way for +twenty miles round here if you tie my eyes up. +There's nary gate that my nets hasn't been under; +there's hardly a field that I haven't been chased on." +As our trotter swung on, I found that the poacher associated +almost every gate and outhouse and copse +with some wild story. For example, we passed a +clump of farm-buildings, and the poacher said; "I +had a queer job in there. Three of us had had a good +night—a dozen hares—and we got half-a-crown apiece +for them, so we drank all day, and came out on the +game again at night. We put down a master lot o' +wires about eleven, and then we takes a bottle o' rum +and goes to lie down on a load of hay. Well, we all +takes too much, and sleeps on and on. When I +wakes, Lord, we was covered with snow, and a marcy +we was alive. We dursn't go for our wires in the +daylight, and there we has to stand and see a keeper +go and take out three hares, one after another. It was +a fortnight before I had a chance of picking up the +wires again, and we was about perished." Cold, wet, +and all other inconveniences are nothing to the poacher.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently my man chuckled grimly. "Had a near +shave over there where you see them ar' trees. I had +my old dorg out one night, and two commarades along +with me. We did werra well at that gate we just +passed, so we tries another field. Do you think that +there owd dorg 'ud go in? Not he. There never +was such a one for 'cuteness. We was all in our +poachin' clothes, faces blacked, women's nightcaps on, +and shirts on over our coats. Well, the light come in +the sky, and I separates from my mates, for I sees the +owd dorg put up a hare and coorse her. I follows +him, and he gits up for first turn; then puss begins +to turn very quick to throw the dorg out before she +made her last run to cover. He was on the scut, the +old rip—catch him leave her—and I gits excited, and, +like a fool, I chevies him on. In a minute I sees a +man running at me, and off I goes for the gate. Now, +I could run any man round here from 300 yards up to +a mile; but I knew I must be took at the gate, unless +I could stop the keeper. I had a big stick with me—about +six foot long it was—and did sometimes to beat +fuzz with; so I takes the stick by one end. He come +up very sharp, and I made up my mind to let him gain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +on me. As soon as I <i>feels</i> him on me, I swings +round, and the stick got him on the side of the head. +He went flat down, and I got on to the road. I picked +up my mates, and we washes our faces in a pond; +then we leaves our clothes with one of the school, and +walks off to the pub. Half an hour after, in comes +the keeper and says, 'See what some of you blackguards +has done for me?' I stands him a drink and +says how sorry, and we parted. Ah! Years after +that I was at a harvest supper with that keeper, and +we talks of that affair. I says, 'I'll tell you now, I +was the man as knocked you over,' and he says, +'Shake hands, Tom. It was the cleanest thing I +ever saw done.'</p> + +<p>"Do you really like the game, then?"</p> + +<p>"Like it! I'd die at it. If it wasn't for my +crippled foot I'd be out every night now."</p> + +<p>Old Tom, the much-imprisoned man, never goes +out with a gang now, but his influence is potent. He +is the romantic poacher, and many a man has been +set on by him. Observe that the best of these night +thieves are on perfectly friendly terms with the +keepers. If they are taken, they resign themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +to fate, and bear no ill-will. It is a game, and if the +keeper makes a good move he is admired—and +forgiven.</p> + +<p>Six regular poachers come daily to The Chequers, but +there are many others hanging around who are merely +amateurs. One queer customer with whom I have +stayed out many nights is the despair of the keepers. +His resource is inexhaustible, and his courage is +almost admirable. Let me say—with a blush if you +like—that I am a skilful poacher, and my generalship +has met with approval from gentlemen who have often +seen the inside of Her Majesty's prisons. Alas!</p> + +<p>One day I was much taken with the appearance of +a beautiful fawn bitch, which lay on the seat in the +room which is used by the most shady men in the +district. Her owner was a tall, thin man, with sly +grey eyes, set very near together, and a lean, resolute +face. Doggy men are freemasons, and I soon opened +the conversation by speaking of the pretty fawn. She +pricked her ears, and to my amazement, they stood +up like those of a rabbit. Such a weird, out-of-the-way +head I never saw, though the dog looked a nice, +well-trained greyhound when she had her ears laid back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>I said, "Why, she's a lurcher."</p> + +<p>"She ain't all greyhound; but the best man as +ever I knew always said there never was a prick-eared +one a bad 'un."</p> + +<p>"Is she for sale?"</p> + +<p>"There ain't enough money to buy her."</p> + +<p>"She's so very good?"</p> + +<p>"Never was one like her!"</p> + +<p>I found out, when we became fast friends, that the +man's statement was quite correct. The dog's +intelligence was supernatural. For the benefit of +innocents who do not know what poaching is like, I +will give an idea of this one dog's depredations. +The owner—the Consumptive, I call him, as his +night work has damaged his lungs—grew very friendly +one day, and confidential. He winked and remarked, +"Now, how many do you think I've had this +month?"</p> + +<p>"How many what?"</p> + +<p>"You know. Rabbits. Guess."</p> + +<p>I tried, and failed. The Consumptive whispered, +"Well, I keeps count, just the same as a shopkeeper, +and as true as I'm a living man I've taken two hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +and fifty out of that park, and averaged tenpence +for 'em."</p> + +<p>"With the one bitch?"</p> + +<p>"No. I've got a pup from her—such a pup. The +old 'un's taught the baby, and I swear I'll never let +that pup come out in daylight. They work together, +and nothing can get away."</p> + +<p>This astounding statement was true to the letter. +The dogs were like imps for cunning; they would +hide skilfully at the very sound of a strange footstep, +and they would retrieve for miles if necessary. I +may say that I have seen them at work, and I +earnestly wish that Frank Buckland could have been +there.</p> + +<p>The Consumptive is a dissolute, drunken fellow, +whose life is certainly not noble. Fancy being maintained +in idleness by a couple of dogs! But the park +is there, and the man cannot help stealing. I have +seen his puppy, and I wish the royal duke could see +her. She is a cross between lurcher and greyhound; +her cunning head resembles that of a terrier, and her +long, slim limbs are hard as steel. Her precious +owner spends his days in tippling; he never reads,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +and, I fancy, never thinks; he goes forth at dusk, +and his faithful dogs proceed to work for his livelihood.</p> + +<p>The Consumptive is, as I have said, a man of great +resource; but he has for once been within a hair's +breadth of disaster. When he walks across the park +at dusk, he likes to take his wife with him, and on +such occasions he looks like a quiet workman out for +a stroll with the missus. He sometimes puts his +arm round the lady's waist, and the couple look so +very loving and tender. It would never do to take +the raking, great deerhound; but the innocent little +fawn dog naturally follows her master, and looks, oh! +so demure.</p> + +<p>The lady wears a wide loose cloak, which comes to +her feet, for you must know that the mists rise very +coldly from the hollows. Then these two sentimentalists +wend their way to a secluded quarter of the +vast park, and presently the faithful fawn mysteriously +disappears. She moves slyly among the bracken, +and her exquisite scent serves to guide her unerringly +as she works up wind. Presently she steadies herself, +takes aim, and rushes! The rabbit only has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +time to turn once or twice before the savage jaws +close on him, and then the fawn makes her way carefully +towards Darby and Joan. She takes advantage +of every shadow; she never thinks of rashly crossing +open ground, and Darby has only got to stamp twice +to make her lie down. She sneaks up, and, horror! +she gives the rabbit to Joan. Now under that cloak +there is a useful little apparatus. A strong strap is +fastened under Joan's armpits and over her breasts. +This strap has on it a dozen strong hooks. Joan +slits away the tendons of the rabbit's hind legs from +the bone, hangs the game on one of the hooks, and +the lovers wend their way peacefully, while the family +provider glides off on another murderous errand. +When four or five hooks are occupied, the lady walks +homeward with the demure dog, Darby goes and +drinks at The Chequers till about eleven, and then +the mouse-coloured deerhound is taken out to do her +share.</p> + +<p>The fond couple were sitting on a bench under a +tree, for Joan had fairly tired under the weight of no +less than nine rabbits which were slung on her belt. +The lurcher stole up, and quietly laid a rabbit down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +at Joan's feet; then a soft-spoken man came from +behind the tree, and observed—</p> + +<p>"I am a policeman in plain clothes, and you must +go with me to the keeper's cottage."</p> + +<p>But Darby, the wily one, rose to the occasion. +The dog is trained to repudiate his acquaintance at a +word, and when he said, "That's not my dog; get +off, you brute!" the accomplished lurcher picked up +the rabbit and vanished like lightning. Nevertheless +the policeman led off Darby, and Joan followed. The +keeper was out, but the policeman searched the Consumptive +and found nothing.</p> + +<p>The keeper said to me—even me, "My wife tells +me they brought up a man the other night, but he +had no game on him. He had a woman with him +that fairly made the missus tremble. She was like +a bloomin' giant out of a show." I smiled, for the +Consumptive had told me the whole tale. "My 'art +was in my mouth," he remarked, and I do not +wonder. Considering that Joan was padded with the +carcases of <i>nine</i> rabbits under that enormous cloak, it +was quite natural for her bulk to seem abnormal. +Ah! if that intelligent policeman had probed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +mysteries that underlay the cloak! I am glad he did not, +for the Consumptive is a most entertaining beast of prey.</p> + +<p>Another of our poaching men was obliged to borrow +from me the money for his dog licences, and in +gratitude he allowed me to see his brace of greyhounds +work at midnight. People think that +greyhounds cannot hunt by scent, but this man has a +tiny black and a large brindle that work like basset-hounds. +They are partners, and they have apparently +a great contempt for the rules of coursing. +One waits at the bottom of a field, while his partner +quarters the ground with the arrowy fleetness of a +swallow. When a hare is put up by the beating +dog she goes straight to her doom.</p> + +<p>It seems marvellous that such lawless desperadoes +should be hanging about London; but there they are, +and they will have successors so long as there is a +head of game on the ground. The men are disreputable +loafers; they care only for drink and the +pleasures of idleness. I grant that. My only business +is to show what a strange secret life, what a +strange secret society, may be studied almost within +sight of St. Paul's.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>The very best and most daring poacher I know +lives within five-and-twenty minutes' journey from +Waterloo. You may keep on framing stringent game +laws as long as you choose, but you cannot kill an +overmastering instinct.</p> + +<p>I am not prepared to say, "Abolish the Game +Laws;" but I do say that those laws cause wild, +worthless fellows to be regarded as heroes. No +stigma whatever attaches to a man who has been +imprisoned for poaching; he has won his Victoria +Cross, and he is admired henceforth. You inflict a +punishment which confers honour on the culprit in +the eyes of the only persons for whose opinion he +cares. Even the better sort of men who haunt our +public-houses are glad to meet and talk with the +poachers. The punishment gives a man a few weeks +of privation and months of adulation. He bears no +malice; he simply goes and poaches again. No +burglar ever brags of his exploits; the poacher +always boasts, and always receives applause.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="JIM_BILLINGS" id="JIM_BILLINGS"></a>JIM BILLINGS.</h2> + +<p>Few people know that large numbers of the +splendid seamen who man our North Sea +fishing fleets are arrant Cockneys. In the North-country +and in Scotland the proud natives are +accustomed to regard the Cockney as a being who +can only be reckoned as human by very charitable +persons. To hear a Scotch fisherman mention a +"Kokenee" is an experience which lets you know +how far scorn may really be cherished by an earnest +man. The Northerners believe that all the manliness +and hardiness in the country reside in their persons; +but I take leave to dispute that pleasing article of +faith, for I have seen hundreds of Londoners who +were quite as brave and skilful sailors as any born +north of the Tees. The Cockney is a little given to +talking, but he is a good man all the same.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the smacks many lads from the workhouse +schools are apprenticed, and some of the smartest +skippers in England come originally from Mitcham or +Sutton. Jim Billings was a workhouse boy when he +first went to sea, and he sometimes ran up to London +after his eight weeks' trips were over. When I first +cast eyes on Jim I said quite involuntarily, "Bob +Travers, by the living man!" The famous coloured +boxer is still alive and hearty, and it would be hard to +tell the difference between him and Jim Billings were +it not that the prize-fighter dresses smartly. Jim +doesn't; his huge chest is set off by a coarse white +jumper; his corded arms are usually bared nearly to the +elbow, and his vast shock of twining curls relieves him +generally from the trouble of wearing headgear. On +Sundays he sometimes puts on a most comfortless +felt hat, but that is merely a chance tribute to social +usage, and the ugly excrescence does not disfigure +Jim's shaggy head for very long. Billings's father +was a mulatto prize-fighter, who perished early from +the effects of those raging excesses in which all men +of his class indulged when they came out of training. +The mulatto was as powerful and game a man as ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +stripped in a twenty-four-foot ring; but he ruined his +constitution with alcohol, and he left his children +penniless. The little bullet-headed Jim was drafted +off to the workhouse school, and from thence to a +small fishing-smack.</p> + +<p>Does anyone ever think nowadays of the horrors +that were to be seen among the fleets not so very +long ago? It is not a wonder that any of the fishers had +a glimmer of human feeling in them when they reached +manhood, for no brute beast—not even a cabhorse in +an Italian town—was ever treated as an apprentice +on a smack was treated. Some of the sea-ruffians +carried their cruelty to insane extremes, for the lust +of blood seemed to grow upon them. It is a naked +truth that there was no law for boys who lived on the +high seas until very recent years. One fine, hardy +seadog (that is the correct and robust way of talking) +used to strip his apprentice, and make him go out to +the bowsprit end when the vessel was dipping her +stem in winter time. He was such a merry fellow, +was this bold seadog, and I could make breezy, +"robust" Britons laugh for hours by my narratives +of his drolleries. He would not let this poor boy eat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +a morsel of anything until he had mixed the dish with +excrements, and when the lad puked at the food the +hardy mariner cut his head open with a belaying-pin +or flung him down the hatchway. Sometimes the +hardy one and the mate lashed the apprentice up in +the fore-rigging, and they had rare sport while he +squealed under the sting of the knotted rope's end. +On one night the watch on deck saw a figure dart +forward and spring on the rail; the contumacious +boy had stripped himself, and he was barely saved +from throwing his skinny, lacerated carcass into the +sea. Shortly after this the youngest apprentice went +below, and found the ill-used lad standing on a locker, +and gibbering fearfully. The tiny boy said:</p> + +<p>"Oh! Jim, Jim, what's come to you?" but James +never uttered a rational word more. He was sent to +his mother's house at Deptford, and he went to bed +with four other children. In the early morning the +youngsters noticed that Jim seemed rather stiff, and +he had exceedingly good reasons, for he was stone-dead, +and doubled up. The coroner's jury thought +that death resulted from a stoppage of the intestines. +That was very funny indeed, for Jim's shipmates<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +observed that as he was bruised and rope's-ended +more and more he lost all power of retaining his food, +and everything he swallowed passed from him undigested. +Jim succumbed to the wholesome, manly, +hardening, maritime discipline of the good old times, +and no one was hanged for murdering him.</p> + +<p>The mind of the kindly, shoregoing man cannot +rightly conceive the monstrosities of cruelty which +were perpetrated. Fancy a boy bending over a line +and baiting hooks for dear life while the blood from a +fearful scalp wound drained his veins till he fainted. +The lad came to in four hours; had he died he would +have been quietly reported as washed overboard. If +you can stand a few hours of talk from an old smacksman +you may hear a sombre litany of horror. Those +fishers are, physically, the flower of our race, and +many of them have the noblest moral qualities. +Knowing what I do of the old days, I wonder that the +men are any better than desperate savages.</p> + +<p>Jim Billings endured the bitterest hardships that +could befall an apprentice. For six years he was not +allowed to have a bed, for that luxury was generally +denied to boys. He secured a piece of old netting,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +and he used to sleep on that until it became rotten by +reason of the salt water which drained from his +clothes. On mad winter nights, when the sea came +hurling along, and crashed thunderously on the decks, +the smack tugged and lunged at her trawl. All round +her the dark water boiled and roared, and the blast +shrieked through the cordage with hollow tremors. +That One who rideth on the wings of the wind lashed +the dark sea into aimless fury, and the men on deck +clung where they could as the smothering waves broke +and seethed in wild eddies over the reeling vessel. +At midnight the sleepers below heard the cry, "Haul, +O! haul, haul, haul!" and they staggered to their +feet in the reeking den of a cabin.</p> + +<p>"Does it rain?"</p> + +<p>"No, it snows."</p> + +<p>That was the fragment of dialogue which passed +pretty often. Then the skipper inquired, "Do you +want any cinder ashes?" The ashes were spread on +the treacherous deck; the bars were fixed in the +capstan, and the crew tramped on their chill round. +Men often fell asleep at their dreary work, and walked +on mechanically; sometimes the struggle lasted for an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +hour or two, until strong fellows were ready to lie +down, and over the straining gang the icy wind roared +and the piercing drift flew in vicious streams. When +the big beam and the slimy net came to hand the +worst of the work began; it often happened that a +man who ran against a shipmate was obliged to say, +"Who's that?" so dense was the darkness; and yet +amid that impenetrable gloom the intricate gear had +to be handled with certainty, and when the living +avalanche of fish flowed from the great bag, it was +necessary to kill, clean, and sort them in the dark. +When the toil was over Jim Billings went below with +his mates, and their dripping clothes soon covered +the cabin floor with slush.</p> + +<p>"Surely they changed their clothes?" I fancy I +hear some innocent asking that question. Ah! No. +The smacksmen have no time for changes of raiment. +Jim huddled himself up like the rest: the crew turned +in soaking, and woke up steaming, just as the men do +even nowadays.</p> + +<p>Week in, week out, Jim Billings led that hard life, +and he grew up brawny and sound in spite of all his +troubles. His frame was a mass of bone and wire,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +and no man could accurately measure his strength. +His mind was left vacant of all good impressions; +every purely animal faculty was abnormally developed, +and Jim's one notion of relaxation was to get beastly +drunk whenever he had the chance. Like too many +more of those grand seamen, he came to regard himself +as an outcast, for he was cut off from the world +during about forty-six weeks of every year, and he +thought that no creature on earth cared for him. If +he broke a finger or strained a tendon, he must bear +his suffering, and labour on until his eight weeks were +up; books, newspapers, rational amusements were +unknown to him; he lived on amid cursing, fighting, +fierce toil, and general bestiality.</p> + +<p>Pray, what were Jim's recreations? When he ran +up to London he remained violently, aggressively drunk +while his money lasted, and at such times he was as +dangerous as a Cape buffalo in a rage. With all his +weight he was as active as a leopard, and his hitting +was as quick as Ned <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has '?' in place of the ending period.">Donnelly's.</ins> He enjoyed a fight, +but no one who faced him shared his enjoyment long; +for he generally settled his man with one rush. He +used both hands with awful severity; and in short, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +was one of the most fearsome wild beasts ever allowed +to remain at large. I have known him to take four +men at once, with disastrous results to the four, and, +when he had to be conveyed to the police-station +(which was rather frequently), fresh men were always +brought round to handle him. Speaking personally, +I may say that I would rather enter a cage of performing +lions than stand up for two rounds with Mr. +Billings. He only once was near The Chequers, and +I fear I entertained an unholy desire to see some of +our peculiar and eloquent pugilists raise his ire. Here +was a pretty mass of blackguard manhood for you! +Everyone who knew him felt certain that Jim would +be sent to penal servitude in the end for killing some +antagonist with an unlucky blow; no human power +seemed capable of restraining him, and of superhuman +powers he only knew one thing—he knew that you +use certain words for cursing purposes.</p> + +<p>Over the grey desolation of that cruel North Sea no +humanising agency ever travelled to soften Jim Billings +and his like; but there were many agencies at work +to convert the men into brutes.</p> + +<p>On calm days there came sinister vessels that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +sneaked furtively among the fleet. A little black flag +flew from the foretopmast stay of these ugly visitors, +and that was a sign that tobacco and spirits were on +sale aboard. The smacksmen went for tobacco, which +is a necessity of life to them; but the clever Dutchmen +soon contrived to introduce other wares. Vile aniseed +brandy—liquid fire—was sold cheap, and many a man +who began the day cool and sober ended it as a raving +madman. Mr. Coper, the Dutch trader, did not care +a rush for ready money; ropes, nets, sails were quite as +much in his line, and a continual temptation was held +out to men who wanted to rob their owners. Jim +Billings used to get drunk as often as possible, and he +himself told me of one ghastly expedient to which he +was reduced when he and his shipmates were parched +and craving for more poison. A dead man came past +their vessel; they lowered the boat, and proceeded to +haul the clothes off the corpse. The putrid flesh came +away with the garments, but the drunkards never +heeded. They scrubbed the clothes, dried them in the +rigging, and coped them away for brandy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Coper had other attractions for young and lusty +fishermen. There are certain hounds in France,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +Holland, and even in our own virtuous country, who +pick up a living by selling beastly pictures. In the +North Sea fleets there are 12,000 powerful fellows who +are practically condemned to celibacy, and the human +apes who sold the bawdy pictures drove a rare trade +among the swarming vessels.</p> + +<p>Jim Billings was a capital customer to the Copers, +for his animalism ran riot, and he was more like a +tremendous automaton than like a man.</p> + +<p>So this mighty creature lived his life, drinking, +fighting, toiling, blaspheming, and dwelling in rank +darkness. He often spoke of "Gord," and his burly +childishness tickled me infinitely. I liked Jim; he +was such a Man when one compared him with our +sharps and noodles; but I never expected to see him +fairly distance me in the race towards respectability. +I am still a Loafer; Jim is a most estimable member +of the gentlest society; and this is how it all came +about.</p> + +<p>On one grey Sunday morning a pretty smack came +creeping through the fleet. Far and near the dark +trawlers heaved to the soft swell, and they looked +picturesque enough; but the strange vessel was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +handsomer than any of the fishing-boats, and Jim's +curiosity was roused. The new smack was flying a +flag at her masthead, but Jim could not read well +enough to make out the inscription on the flag. He +said, "Who's he?" and his mate answered, "A blank +mission ship. Lot o' blokes come round preachin' and +prayin'."</p> + +<p>"What? To our blank chaps? How is it I've +never seen his blank flag afore?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't been werry long started. I heerd about +'em at Gorleston. Fat Dan got converted board o' one +on 'em."</p> + +<p>Just then the smart smack shoved her foresail +a-weather and hove-to; then a small boat put out, and +a stout grizzled man hailed Jim.</p> + +<p>"What cheer, old lad, what cheer? Come and give +us a look. Service in an hour's time. Come and have +a pot o' tea and a pipe."</p> + +<p>I am grieved to say that Mr. Billings remarked, +"Let's go aboard the blank, and capsize the whole +blank trunk."</p> + +<p>Certainly he jumped up the side of the mission ship +with very evil intentions. Boat after boat came up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +and made fast astern of the dandy vessel, and soon the +decks were crowded with merry groups. Jim couldn't +make it out for the life of him. These fellows had +their pipes and cigars going; they were full of fun, and +yet Jim could not hear an oath or a lewd word. +Gradually he began to feel a little sheepish, but nevertheless +he did not relinquish his desire to break up the +service. The skipper of the smack invited Jim to go +below, and handed him a steaming mug of tea.</p> + +<p>"Where's your 'bacca?" said the skipper.</p> + +<p>"Left him aboard."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. Take half a pound and pay for it +to-morrow. We sell the best at a shilling a pound."</p> + +<p>Jim gaped. Here was a decidedly practical +religious agency. A shilling a pound! Cheaper than +the Copers' rubbish. Jim took a few pulls at the strong, +black tobacco, and began to reconsider his notion about +smashing up the service. He found the religious +skipper was as good a fisherman as anyone in the +fleet; the talk was free from that horrible cant which +scares wild and manly men so easily, and the copper-coloured +rowdy almost enjoyed himself.</p> + +<p>Presently the lively company filed into the hold,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +squatted on fish boxes, and proceeded to make themselves +comfortable. Two speakers from London were +to address the meeting, and Jim gazed very critically +on both.</p> + +<p>A hymn was sung, and the crash of the hoarse +voices sounded weirdly over the moan of the wind. +Jim felt something catch at his throat, and yet he was +unable to tell what strange new feeling thrilled him. +His comrades sang as if their lives depended on their +efforts. Jim sat on, half pleased, half sulky, wholly +puzzled. Then one of the speakers rose. At first +sight the preacher looked like anything but an apostle; +his plump, rounded body gave no hint of asceticism, +and his merry, pure eye twinkled from the midst of a +most rubicund expanse of countenance. He looked +like one who had found the world a pleasant place, +and Jim gruffly described him as a "jolly old bloke." +But the voice of this comfortable, suave-looking +missionary by no means matched his appearance. He +spoke with a grave and silvery pitch that made his +words seem to soar lightly over his audience. His +accent was that of the genuine society man, but a +delicate touch—a mere suspicion—of Scotch gave the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +cultured tones a certain odd piquancy. A solemn note +of deep passion trembled, as it were, amid the floating +music, and every word went home. This jolly, rosy +missionary is one of the best of living popular speakers, +and his passionate simplicity fairly conquers the very +rudest of audiences. The man believes every word he +says, and his power of rousing strong emotion has +seldom been equalled.</p> + +<p>Jim Billings sat and glowered; he understood every +simply lucid sentence that the orator uttered, and he +was charmed in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>"This is the blankest, rummiest blank go ever I +was in," muttered the would-be iconoclast.</p> + +<p>His visions of a merry riot were all fled, and he was +listening with the eagerness of a decorous Sunday-school +child.</p> + +<p>Speaker Number Two arose, and Jim's bleared +eyes were riveted on him. The rough saw before +him a pallid, worn man, whose beautiful face seemed +drawn by suffering. Long, exquisite artist hands, +silky beard, kindly, humorous mouth, marked by +stern lines; these were the things that Jim dimly +saw. But the dusky blackguard was really daunted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +and mastered by the preacher's eye. The wonderful +eye was like Napoleon's and Mary Stuart's in colour; +but the Emperor's lordly look hinted of earthly +ambition: the missionary's wide, flashing gaze seemed +to be turned on some solemn vision. Twice in my +life have I seen such an eye—once in the flesh when +I met General Gordon, once in a portrait of +Columbus. Poor Jim was fascinated; he was in +presence of the hero-martyr who has revolutionised +the life of a great population by the sheer force of his +own unconquerable will. Jim did not know that the +slim man with the royal eye must endure acute agony +as he travels from one squalid vessel to another; he +did not know that the sublime modern Reformer has +overcome colossal difficulties while enduring tortures +which would make even brave men pray for death. +Jim was in the dark. He only knew that the saintly +man talked like a "toff," and said strange things. +After a little the "toff" dropped the accent of the +Belgravian and began to speak in low, impassioned +tones; he told one little story, and Jim found that +he must cry or swear. With sorrow I must say that +he did the latter, in order to bully the lump out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +his bull throat. Then the "toff" broke into a cry of +infinite tenderness and pity; he implored the men to +come, and some sturdy fellows sobbed; but Jim did +not understand where they were wanted to go, and he +growled another oath.</p> + +<p>After this some of the fishermen spoke, and Jim +heard how drunkards, fighting men, and spendthrifts +had become peaceable and prosperous citizens.</p> + +<p>Puzzles were heaped on the poor man's brain. He +could have broken that pale man in halves with one +hand; yet the pale man mastered him. He knew +some of the burly seamen as old ruffians; yet here +they were—talking gently, and boasting about their +happiness and prosperity. When the last crashing +chorus had been sung, the two swells went round and +chatted freely with all comers.</p> + +<p>"No —— 'toffs' never treated me like that afore."</p> + +<p>All that day, until the trawl went down, Jim sat +growling and brooding. He was inarticulate, and the +crowding thoughts that surged in his dim soul were +chaotic.</p> + +<p>Next day he inquired, "Do you know anything +'bout this yere Jesus as they yarns about?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Devil a bit! Get the bloke on the Mission ship +to tell you."</p> + +<p>"See him and you damned fust!"</p> + +<p>Thus spoke the impolite James. But on the ninth +day the Mission smack ran into the Blue fleet again, +and Jim took a desperate resolution. His boat was +astern, so he jumped over the counter and sculled +himself straight to the Mission smack.</p> + +<p>"Got them gents aboard?"</p> + +<p>The skipper was wild with delight at seeing the +most notorious ruffian on the coast come voluntarily, +and Mr. Billings was soon below in the after cabin. +Poor Jim stuttered and haggled while trying to +explain what was the matter with him.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, guvnor, I've got a something that +must come out, or I shall choke straight off. I want +to speak, and I can't get no words."</p> + +<p>I shall say nothing of the long talk that went on. +I know something about it, but the subject is too +sacred for a Loafer to touch. I shall only say that +Jim Billings got release, as the fishers say, and his +wild, infantine outburst made powerful men cry like +children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + +<p>He is now a very quiet soul, and he neither visits +The Chequers nor any other hostelry. There was +great fun among the Gorleston men when Jim turned +serious, and one merry smacksman actually struck at +the quadroon. Jim bit his lip, and said,</p> + +<p>"Bill, old lad, I'd have killed you for that a year +ago. Shake hands; God bless you!"</p> + +<p>Which was rather a plucky thing to do.</p> + +<p>Some blathering parsons say that this blessed +Mission is teaching men to talk cant and Puritanism. +Speaking as a very cynical Loafer, I can only say +that if Puritanism turns fishing fleets and fishing +towns from being hells on earth into being decent +places; if Puritanism heals the sick, comforts the +sufferers, carries joy and refinement and culture into +places that were once homes of horror, and renders +the police force almost a superfluity in two great +towns—then I think we can put up with Puritanism.</p> + +<p>I know that Jim Billings was a dangerous untamed +animal; he is now a jolly, but quiet fellow. I was +always rather afraid of him; but now I should not +mind sailing in his vessel. The Puritan Mission +has civilised him and hundreds on hundreds more,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +and I wish the parsons had done just half as +much.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I think that when I am clear of +The Chequers I shall go clean away into the North +Sea. If on some mad night the last sea heaves us +down, and the Loafer is found on some wind-swept +beach, that will be as good an end as a burnt-out, +careless being can ask. Perhaps Jim Billings, the +rough, and I, the broken gentleman, may go triumphantly +together. Who knows? I should like to +take the last flight with the fighting nigger.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="OUR_PARLOUR_COMPANY" id="OUR_PARLOUR_COMPANY"></a>OUR PARLOUR COMPANY.</h2> + +<p>We have one room where high prices are charged. +This place is kept very select indeed, and the +vulgar are excluded. I was not received very well at +first, and some of the assembly talked at me in a way +which was intended to be highly droll; but I never +lost temper, and I fairly established my position by +dint of good humour. Moreover, I found out who was +the most unpopular man in the room, and earned +much goodwill by slyly administering the kind of +strokes which a fairly educated man can always play +off on a dullard. I hate the parlour, and if I were to +let out according to my fancy I should use violent +language. In that dull, stupid place one learns to +appraise the talk about sociality and joviality at its +correct value. I am afraid I must utter a heresy. I +have heard that George Eliot's chapter about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +Raveloe Inn is considered as equal to Shakespeare's +work. Now I can only see in it the imaginative +writing of a clever woman who tried to dramatise a +scene without having any data to guide her. In all +my life I never heard a conversation resembling that +of the farrier and the rest in the remotest degree. In +the first place, one element of public-house talk—the +overt or sly indecency—is left out. In an actual +public-house parlour the man who can bring in a totally +new tale of a dirty nature is the hero of the evening. +Then the element of scandal is missing. When men +of vulgar mind meet together, you only need to wait a +few minutes before you hear someone's character +pulled to pieces, and the scandal is usually of the +clumsiest sort. Again, it is easy to represent the +landlord as a pliable person who agrees with everybody; +but the landlord of real life is a person who is +treated with deference, and who asserts his position in +the most pronounced fashion. If he has a good +customer he is courteous and obliging, but he +keeps a strict hand on his company, and lets +them know who is master. Nearly all the landlords +I have known since I became a Loafer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +have been good fellows. They find it in their +interest to be generous, obliging, and friendly; +but to represent them as timorous sycophants +is absurd. They are ordinary tradesmen; they +have a good opinion of themselves, and they hold +their own with all classes of men. The women are +sometimes insolent, overdressed creatures, who +heartily despise their customers; but very often a +landlord marries a lady who is as far as possible from +being like the hostess of fiction.</p> + +<p>The temperance orators destroy their main chance +of gaining a success by their senseless attempts to be +funny at the expense of the licensed victuallers. Any +spouter who chooses to rant about the landlady's gold +chain and silk dress can make sure of a laugh, and +anyone who talks about "prosperous Mr. Bung" is +approved. For the sake of a good cause I beg the +abstainers to tell the plain, brutal truth as I do, and +refrain from scandalising a decent class of citizens. +Why on earth should the landlord be named as a +pariah among the virtuous classes? He is a +capitalist who is tempted to invest money in a trade +which is the mainstay of our revenue; he is hedged in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +with restrictions, and the faintest slip ruins him for +ever. The very nature of his business compels him +to be smart, obliging, ostentatiously friendly; yet +with all this the Government treat him as if he were +by nature a thief, while thousands of earnest but +ignorant and foolish people reckon him an enemy of +society.</p> + +<p>Pray who is forced or solicited to buy the landlord's +wares? Your butcher cries "Buy, buy, buy!" your +draper sends out bills and sandwich-men; but the +publican would be scouted if he went out touting for +custom. If a man asks for drink he knows quite well +what he is doing, and if he takes too much it is +because of some morbid taint or unlucky weakness.</p> + +<p>Take away the taint, and strengthen the weakness; +but do not pour blackguard and unfair abuse on +business men who are in no way answerable for +human frailty.</p> + +<p>When I hear (as I often do) some flabby boozer +whining and ascribing his trouble to the drinkshop, I +despise him. Who took him to the drinkshop? +Was it not to please himself that he went? Did he +care for any other being's gratification but his own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +when he slipped the alcohol down his throat? Yet +he appeals for pity. I reckon that I know England +and Scotland as well as most commercial travellers, +and I have been compelled to depend for my comfort +and well-being on the men whom some of the Alliance +folk call pariahs. In all my experience I have come +across less than a dozen men whom I should imagine +to rank among the shady division. I should be a liar +if I said that many public-houses are highly moral and +useful institutions; but the abuses are due to the +rank faults of human nature, and not to the class of +traders who are alternately described as venal +sycophants or robbers. Let us be fair. The Devil +has enough to bear, and for any harm which we bring +to ourselves we should not lay the blame on him or +fate.</p> + +<p>The whole Raveloe scene is full of typical errors. +It is too pretty, too decent, too neat, too humourous. +There is very little fun to be got out of public-house +humours, because the vanity of the various +talkers is offensive, and their stupidity has not the +charm of simplicity. If such a man as, say, Mr. +Matthew Arnold wanted to test the accuracy of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +"Silas Marner" chapter for critical purposes, he +would scarcely recover the ordeal of a night spent in a +haunt of the hardened toper. If the company +happened to be unembarrassed, their ribaldry +would sicken the philosopher; their coarse manners +would revolt him; their political talk—well, that +would probably stupefy him and cause him to flee.</p> + +<p>Here are my notes of one specimen conversation, +given without any dramatic nonsense or idealisation. +My memory can be trusted absolutely, and I have +often reported a long interview in such a way that the +person interviewed saw nothing to alter.</p> + +<p>Bowman guffawed, and his purple face swelled with +merriment, for he had been hearing a whispered story +told by Bill Preston, an elderly retired tradesman. +Bill is a most respectable man whose daughters hold +quite a leading position in the society of our district. +He is great on church business, and he is the vicar's +right-hand man. It is a noble sight to see him on +Sundays when he stalks down the aisle, nattily dressed +in black, and wearing a devotional air; but in our +parlour his sole aim is to tell the queerest stories in +the greatest possible number, and his collection—amassed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +by years of loving industry—is large and +various. He cannot hear the simplest speech without +trying to extract some bawdy significance from it, +and when he has scored a thoroughly indecent success, +his clean, rosy, jolly face is lit up by a fascinating +smile. Ah! if ladies only heard these sober fathers +of families when conversational high jinks are in +progress, they would be decidedly enlightened.</p> + +<p>When Bowman ended his guffaw he said, with +admiration, "You naughty old man! How dare you +go for to corrupt my morals?" And Bill received the +tribute with modest gratification. Then a loud voice +silenced us all, and Joe Pidgeon, our great logician, +began to hold forth.</p> + +<p>"Wot did old Disraely do? Why, they was all +frightened of him. He was a masterpiece, I tell you. +What was that there heppigram as he made?—'Inebriated +with the hexuberance of his own +verbosity.' There's langwidge for you! And he +kep' it up, too, he did. He was the brightest diadem +in England's crown, he was. But this Gladstone!—wot's +he? Show me any trade as he's benefited! +Ain't he taken the British Flag to the bloomin' pawnshop?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +Gord love me, he oughter be 'ung, he did! +I tell you he ought to be 'ung. If you was to say to +me to-morrow 'Will you 'ang old Gladstone?' I'd +'andle the rope. He's a blank robber and a scoundrel, +he is.</p> + +<p>"What's this new man, Lord Churchill, goin' to +do? He's a red-hot 'un. He does slip into 'em, +and no mistake. He's a coming man, I reckon. I +never see such a flow of language as that bit where he +called old Gommy a superannuated Pharisee. That +was up against him, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>An old man spoke. He is feeble, but he is regarded +as an authority on literature, politics, and +other matters. "There's never been a good day for +anybody since the old-fashioned elections was done +away with. All the houses was open, fun going on +for days, and the candidates was free as free could +be. Your vote was worth something then. I remember +when Horsley put up against Palmer. A +rare man was Palmer! Why, that Palmer drove +down with a coach-and-four and postilions, and he +kept us all alive for a week. He'd kiss the children +in the streets, and he'd set all the taps free in any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +inn that he went into. It's all purity and that sort +of thing now.</p> + +<p>"I don't see no good in talking politics. One of +the jiggers says one thing, and one of them says +another thing. I think the first one's right, then I +think the other one's right, and then I think nothing +at all. I say, give us something good for trade, and +let us have a fair chance of making money. That's +my motto.</p> + +<p>"And, I say, let's have a law to turn those d——d +Germans out of the country. They come over here—the +hungry, poverty-stricken brutes—and they take +the bread out of Englishmen's mouths, and they talk +about education. Education! who cares for education? +I never could read a book in my life without +falling asleep, and I can give some of the educated +ones a start in my small way. Why, I've got a +tenant—a literary man—and he has about six pound +of meat sent home in a week. There's education for +you. I say, out with the Germans!"</p> + +<p>Rullock, the cultured man, was hurt when he heard +education mentioned lightly. He said, "Excuse <i>me</i>, +friend Bowler, but I think we must reckonise the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +claims of edgication. We all know you; we all +respect you, and we know you'll cut up well at the +finish; but I must disagree with you on that one +subject. I'm a edgicated man—I may say that +much. My father paid sixty pound a year at boarding-school +for me. Sixty—pounds—a—year; so if +I'm not edgicated, I should like to know who is. +It's a great advantage to you. Look at the position +you take when you go into a public room, and talk +about any subject that comes up. Suppose you're +ignorant; well, there you sit; and what are you? +You're nobody. No, I approve of edgication—it +improves the mind. It does undoubtedly improve the +mind. Look now at this Randolph Churchill that's +come to the front. What is it but edgication that +brought him forward? I should venture to say he's +a learned man, and knows lots of languages and +sciences, else how'd he shut up such a wonderful +orator as Gladstone? We all know as old Beaky +was edgicated. Look at his books. How'd he write +a book without it? I began "Cohningsby," and, I +tell you, it's grand—sublime. No, friend B., I think +you must give in I'm right."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And I think you're a lot of —— fools."</p> + +<p>This interruption came from the devout Billy—Billy +Preston. That pious man liked to have the +talk mainly to himself, and he thought that anything +not obscene was tame. By the way, these abrupt +and insolent remarks are characteristic of public-house +wit. A favourite joke is to ask a friend a +serious question. When he fails to answer, then the +joker shouts some totally irrelevant and indecent +word, and the questioned man is regarded as "sold." +I cannot repeat the interlude with which Billy +Preston favoured us, but it was very spicy indeed, +and referred to some of those sacred secrets which +are known to all. For a pillar of the Church, Billy +displayed rather amazing tastes and abilities. Then +the talk fell into decency after the regulation merriment +had greeted Mr. Preston's closing effort.</p> + +<p>"How long will you give Jobson to hold out?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He's into everybody's books all +round. I should like to pick up that pony if he does +smash."</p> + +<p>"I heard Charley Dunn say that Mrs. Jobson was +round at old Burdett's asking for time. Jimmy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +Burdett's got a lot of Jobson's paper, and I shouldn't +wonder if he stole a march on the other creditors."</p> + +<p>"Well, Jobson's a good sort, but he couldn't last. +He's too free with his money. I never wanted his +champagne and his suppers, but you had to drop in +like the others, and there you are."</p> + +<p>A strident voice drowned the scandal, and an +admiring group ceased smoking and listened spellbound +to a characteristic anecdote. I cannot put in +all the expletives, but I may say that the speaker +modelled his style on that of the more eloquent +betting men whom he knew.</p> + +<p>"I says to him, you'll trot me, will you? Why, +go on with you, run and see your grandmother, and +get her to wipe your nose for you. Strike me, I +could sweep the blank chimney with you! You want +to get on to me, and you know my cob can't go more +than eleven at the outside. I was kiddin' him on, do +you see? Then I winks at old Sammy, and he says, +very solemn, 'It's absurd for you, sir, to talk of +trotting this gentleman. The cob's out of condition, +and rough as a badger.' You see I let the cob keep +his winter coat, and he was an object and no error.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +So this bloke was a fly flat, don't you know, and I +could see he bit. He says, 'I'd like to have a match +with you.' So I tips the office to Sammy, and +blanked if he didn't go and knock in a slice of +bloomin' flint a little way between the shoe and the +near fore foot. I says very timid, 'Well, sir, I don't +mind having a try just for a bit of sport, if you'll lay +£30 to £20.' He says, 'Done with you,' and we +staked. When I sees my pony walking gingerly, I +made as if I was took aback. He saw the same +thing, and says, 'Pony's wrong.' 'Yes,' says I, +'worse luck.' He says, 'I lay you £50 to £30 I +beat you.' I says, 'You have me at a disadvantage, +sir, but I'm on,' and I pulls out my three tenners. +Then Sammy got the flint out, and we went into the +road. I let him go away, and after we'd done five +mile he waves and cries good-bye. I never hustled +my cob, for I found I could go by when I liked. +Two mile from Dorking I gives the cob his head. +Lord love you, he can do seventeen inside the hour, +and he left that juggins as if he was standing still. +When he drove up at Dorking, he says, 'You're a +red-hot member!' and, by God, I think I am!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>This interesting yarn was received with rapture, +and a remarkably strong anecdote of a lady and her +footman fell flat, much to Mr. Preston's disgust. +Then came the hour for personalities. As the drink +takes effect our parlour customers attempt satire, and +their efforts are always of a strongly personal nature.</p> + +<p>"If I'd a boiled beetroot face like you, I'd never +show my 'ed in a public room again."</p> + +<p>"What's your wrong end like, you bloomin' +Dutchman?"</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't kiss and tell." (Rapturous applause.)</p> + +<p>"Get away. You're too mean and miserable to do +anything but count your dibs. He's so mean, gentlemen, +that when he dropped a sixpence into the +plate at church instead of a fourpenny-piece, he +stopped his wife's cat's-meat allowance for a week to +make up."</p> + +<p>"If I had a voice like you I'd have it stuffed."</p> + +<p>"If I had a nose like you I'd pay no more gas +bills. You know your wife emptied the water-jug on +you that night when you were lying boozed, because +she thought it was a red-hot cinder on the floor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so on. The company part without any goodwill, +and a night of odious stupidity is over. Personally, +I regard every hour I have spent in this +public-house as wasted. I never in my life heard a +word of real fun, or real sense, excepting from men +who were merely casual visitors. The person whose +mind is satisfied by the parlour dullness of that +nightly foolery only becomes animated when he is +indecent. In tracing the natural history of a public-house +I have found the respectable dullards the most +revolting of my subjects.</p> + +<p>But the mere fact that our one wretched hole is +stupid and sometimes revolting by no means proves +that all other places are of the same sort. I know +one quiet, cleanly room where many smart young +fellows go; their trade compels them to be decorous, +and you see nothing but courtesy, and hear much +good-natured and sensible chat.</p> + +<p>The riverside 'Arry is always an awful being, but +the gentle, respectful lad who takes his lemonade and +enjoys himself in German fashion is nice company. +I have seen all sorts, and, while I would gladly burst +a 13-inch shell in such a cankered doghole as The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +Chequers, I am bound to say that there are a few +cosy, harmless places whereof the loss would be a +calamity.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I grow weary now, and often at nights, when the +vast shadow of the lamp shudders on the ceiling and +the wind moans hoarsely outside, I fall back in sheer +luxury on the fine, straight, cut-and-thrust of old Boswell's +conversations as a relief from the slavering babble +which I often hear. Being a Loafer is all very +good so far; but some of the men (and women) who +address me use a kind of familiarity that makes me +long to lie down and die. A man never loses the +dandy instinct, and when you come to be actually +addressed in familiar, or even impudent, terms by a +sort of promoted housemaid, it makes you long for the +soft-voiced, quiet ladies to whom a false accent or a +shrill word would be a horror.</p> + +<p>So long as you are a Loafer you must be prepared +to put up with much. The better-class artisan is +always a gentleman who never offers nor endures a +liberty; but some of the flash sort are unendurable, +and their womenkind are worse. With costers and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +bargemen one can always get on familiarly: it is the +pretentious, vulgar men and females who are horrible.</p> + +<p>Often and often I am tempted to creep back among +the lights again, and feel the old delicate joy from +cultured talk, lovely music, steady refinement, and +beauty. Then comes the reckless fit, and I am off to +The Chequers. Here is a rhyme which takes my fancy. +I suppose it is my own, but have quite forgotten:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is the skull of a man,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Soon shall your head be as empty:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laugh and be glad while you can.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<hr style='width: 45%; margin-left: 3em;' /><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Where, from the silver that rims it,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Glows the red spirit of wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Once there was longing and passion,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Finding a woman divine;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Blurred is the finished design,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This was the scope of the plan:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Death, the dry Jester's old bauble—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drink and be glad while you can.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Sorry and cynical symbol,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Ghastly old caricature,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We, too, must walk in thy footsteps,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">We but a little endure.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Bah! since the end is so sure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let us out-frolic our span,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Death is a hush and a darkness—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Drink and be glad while you can.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="A_QUEER_CHRISTMAS" id="A_QUEER_CHRISTMAS"></a>A QUEER CHRISTMAS.</h2> + +<p>The Loafer seems to have fancied the company of +seamen a great deal. At The Chequers few of +the saltwater fellows fore-gathered, but when they did +our Loafer was never long in picking them up. Here +is one of the yarns which he heard. It is stuck in +the Diary without reference to date, place of hearing, +or anything else.</p> + +<p>Joe Glenn used to say that the queerest Christmas +Day he ever spent fell in 1883, the year of the +great gale. In that year there was cruel trouble, and +the number of folks wearing mourning that one met in +Hull and Yarmouth, and the other places, was enough +to make the most light-hearted man feel miserable. +Black everywhere—nothing but black at every turn; +and then the women's faces looked so wistful, and the +children seemed so quiet, that I couldn't bear to walk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +the streets. The women would question any stranger +that came from the quays, and they scorned to think +that there was not always a chance for their men; but +the dead seamen were swinging about in the ooze far +down under the grey waves, and the poor souls who +went gaping and gazing day after day had all their +trouble for nothing.</p> + +<p>Glenn towed out on the 20th of October, and he +cried, "Good-bye, Sal; back for Christmas!" as they +surged away toward Gorleston. Joe was mate of the +Esperanza, and he was a very promising chap. He +knew his way about the North Sea blindfold, and +all he didn't know about his trade wasn't worth knowing. +If you had asked him who Mr. Gladstone was +he would probably have said, "I've heerd on him," +but he could not have told you anything about Mr. +Gladstone or any other statesman. So far as the +world ashore went, Joe was as ignorant as a five-year-old +child, and you would have laughed till you cried +had you seen his delight when the pictures in a +nursery-book were explained to him. It is hardly +possible to imagine the existence of a grown man who +is ignorant of things that are known to a child in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +infant school; but there are many such knocking about +at sea. What can you expect? They live amid the +moaning desolation of that sad sea all the year round; +they never used to have any schooling, and their world +even now is limited by the blank horizon, with the rail +of their boat for inner barrier. Glenn could very +nearly read Moore's Almanac, and, as that great work +was the only literature on board, he often interpreted +it, and he was counted a great scholar. Then, he +could actually use a sextant, and his way of working +out his latitude was chaste and picturesque. Supposing +he made the sun 29 deg. 18 min., and the declination +for the day was 6 deg. 34 min. 22 sec., then he put +down his figures this way:—</p> + +<p style="margin-right: 45%; text-align: right;"> +8948<br /> +2918<br /> +6300<br /> +634<br /> +5356<br /> +</p> + +<p>and when his chums saw him working out this +profound calculation on the side of a bucket or on the +companion hatch, they would say, "He's a wonnerful +masterpiece. Yea, but he is, and nothin' but +that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>Glenn was daring—but that is nothing to say, for +all the fishermen seem insensible to fear. He was +only once scared, and that was when he found a man +leaning against the boat one pitch-dark night, just +after the fishers had hauled. Joe thought the fellow +was loafing, so he hit him a clout on the head, and +made very uncomplimentary remarks. The victim of +the assault took it very coolly, and one of the crew +shouted—</p> + +<p>"Don't touch that theer! He come up in the net +while you was below."</p> + +<p>Then Joe looked at the face, and when he found he +had been punching a dead man he was sick.</p> + +<p>But under any ordinary circumstances you couldn't +shake the man's nerve, and he was fit to go anywhere, +and do anything so far as the sea was concerned.</p> + +<p>The Esperanza got up to her consorts, and then the +usual toilsome monotony of the fisherman's life began. +At the end of a month Joe looked a pretty object, for +he had not washed himself all the time, and his hair +and beard were like rough felt matting. There isn't +much time for washing in the winter, and the fellows +often go for a couple of months without feeling any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +water, except from the seas that are shipped. After +the month was over the men began to pick up heart, +and they notched off the days on the beams with much +enjoyment.</p> + +<p>Joe was like most of the fishermen: he liked to +talk to the gulls. You see, when you are knocking +around for a couple of months, you soon tire of +your own shipmates, and there is no one else to talk +with. The sea mostly makes it awkward to put out a +boat except for purely business purposes, and you +gradually get into the way of taking delight in small +things. Joe would go aft, and call, "Kittee, Kittee—come, +Kittee!" Then with superb curves the +lovely gulls swept round, and remained delicately +poised over the stern. Joe flung pieces of fish into +the air, and kept chatting volubly as his pets swooped +and squabbled. "Go and tell them we're coming, +Kittee, my prittee. Only twenty days more and +round she goes. Tell them we're all well, you sluts, +and you'll have plenty of fish when we run out again." +The gulls are the fisherman's friends, and the men +insist on crediting the beautiful, rapacious birds with +an accurate knowledge of human affairs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>So the days flew by, and the time came when sugar—the +seaman's luxury in winter—began to run short. +That was enough to make the fellows sick for home, +and they were ready to dance for joy when the gay +flag was hoisted at last. Gaily the Esperanza rattled +through the fleet, and envious men cried "What +cheer!" in a doleful manner. After a twelve hours' +run the wind fell away, and the sky began to look funny. +Hoarse vague noises came over the sea, and it seemed +as if certain sounds were growing weary and swooning +away. Little breaths of air came softly—oh, so softly, +and so deadly cold!—but the tiny puffs were hardly +enough to send a feather far. The birds wailed a +good deal, and when the ducks began to cry "Karm, +kah-ah-arm," the men shouted, "Billee, run, Billee; +or I'll bring the policeman!" for all the chaps hate to +hear the ducks yawping.</p> + +<p>Clouds of haze moved around, and when the moon +came up she seemed to be glowering from her shroud. +Joe was anxious to take in something, but the skipper +said, "Don't think there'll be much of it. We can +reef her when it comes away. I want to be home." +All the night it seemed as though something evil were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +in the air, and even the men below were depressed. +Sometimes it happens that if you work long in a +lonely house, you find yourself at night living in dread +of some vague ill, and every crack of the woodwork is +like an ominous message. It is just that way at sea +before a bad gale.</p> + +<p>When Joe saw the moon beginning to paint the +clouds with leprous hues, and the great ring grew +wider and wider, he looked at the mainsail, and wished +the trouble over. At midnight there came a sigh; +then a rattle of blocks, and then a big, silent wave +came pouring along. Something was astir somewhere, +and before long the Esperanza's crew knew what +was the matter. The last glare of wild-fire flushed the +sky, and then down came the breeze. The Esperanza +was as stiff as a house, but it made her lie over a little, +and she roared along in fine style. In two hours the +vessel was putting her lee rail nearly under, and a +single sharp squall would have hove her down, so the +hands were called up to reef her. Joe was out on the +boom, getting the reef-earrings adrift, when the first of +the chapter of accidents came. A man sang out, +"Look out for a drop o' water!" and a black mountain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +smashed over the Esperanza in an instant after. Joe +saw the third hand slip, and the next second the man +was whisked overboard. The Esperanza was still +smothered, and a stab of pity went through Joe's heart +as he saw his shipmate wallowing. But he had no +time for sentiment; he grabbed the reef-earring with +his left hand, and clutched at the man with his right. +When the vessel shook herself, both good fellows came +inboard, and hung on panting. "No time to lose," +said Joe; and indeed there wasn't. The spoondrift +began to fly so that you could not see the moon, and +the wind was enough to choke you if you faced it. I +have heard Joe say that small shot couldn't have hit +you very much harder than the drift when you looked +to windward. Then the sea was growing worse every +minute, until at last every man on board except the +skipper wanted to let her ride. But the worthy +captain said, "If she's got to be smothered, she'll be +smothered moving. The nearer to home the nearer to +help, and she shall go." So the Esperanza tore on +throughout the awful night with all four of her reefs in, +and it was a mercy, that she was never badly hit. At +dawn the rushing hills of water were travelling like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +lightning. It was just as though some mighty <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'ower'.">power</ins> +had set an Alpine district moving, and when a vessel +soared over the crown of a grey mountain she looked +like a mere seabird. In the valleys of this mad, winding +mountain range the whistling hurricane raved and +whirled, and the drift that was plucked looked like +smoke from some hellish cauldron. And still the +grizzled old skipper would go on, though it was touch-and-go +every time a sequence of strong seas came +howling down. The foresail went, and that was bad; +but those fine seamen do not ever come to the end of +their resources so long as life lasts, and they got ready +to set another as soon as the wind showed the least +sign of fining off. The Esperanza tore onward, lunging +violently, and shaking as though she dreaded the +grip of some savage pursuer. No wonder the seamen +speak of a vessel as if she had intelligence; there is +something so strangely vivid in the expression of a ship +that it cannot be expressed in words, and I shall not try.</p> + +<p>At length Joe sang out, "I reckon that's the +Galloper, skipper."</p> + +<p>"Right you are, chap! And what's that by the +edge of the broken water? Wessel, I fancy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis a barque, skipper, and he's got 'em flyin'."</p> + +<p>The two men watched the vessel a long time, and +they determined to run down on her as near as might +be safe. As they drew on her it appeared that she +was not actually hard-and-fast, but she was bumping +apparently, and they guessed she had her anchors out. +There is nothing in the way of close shaves that a +smacksman will not venture, and the Esperanza was +soon within speaking distance.</p> + +<p>"We have a pilot aboard!" sang out someone on +deck.</p> + +<p>"A lightning sort of pilot to ram her nose on the +Galloper!" growled the old skipper. <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original lacked the opening double quote.">"Do you</ins> want +any assistance?"</p> + +<p>"Stand by for a bit and we'll see."</p> + +<p>So the Esperanza went to leeward of the shoal and +hove-to. Presently the stranger signalled, "Come on +board of us."</p> + +<p>Then Joe said, "That fellow's in a frap before his +time, skipper. I believe she'll come off when the tide +turns. If she does, and we have her in charge, that's +a nice lump of money for all of us."</p> + +<p>"But how are we going to get to him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll go," said Joe. "Give me old Bill, and we'll +take the boat down on him. You get the trawl warp +ready, and we'll either tow him or steer him."</p> + +<p>"Right, chap; over with your boat, lads!"</p> + +<p>Then Bill lay down in the boat, Joe put an oar in +the sculling-notch, and the little thing flew before +wind and sea, while the smack drew off a little. +Presently the bulge of the boat's bow glanced along +the ship's side, and Joe flung his painter. Then a +man clambered on to the rail, and Joe roared, +"Where are you coming to?"</p> + +<p>"I'm the pilot, and I'm coming aboard of you."</p> + +<p>"That you're not, you blasted coward! Stay +where you are, and we'll see if we can't save the +wessel."</p> + +<p>But the pilot had lost his head. He got ready for +a jump; the boat lifted, and he sprang; the backwash +pushed her out, and the man's left foot only just +touched the gunwale. He screamed like a woman, +gripped vainly at the air, and rolled under. A sea +drove his head against the ship's side; the boat +swung with tremendous force. Scraunch! and the +poor fellow was gone, with his head crushed like a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +walnut. Joe tried to grab him with the boathook, +but it was useless, and the unhappy poltroon's body +was whirled away.</p> + +<p>"Here's a nice go for a start! Up with you, +Billy!"</p> + +<p>Then the two fishermen gained the deck, and found +not a soul to meet them. "Where the devil are they +all?" Joe ran forward, and went below. In the dim +light he could see little, but he heard a sound as of +men moaning, and as his sight became accustomed to +the dusk he saw several swarthy fellows kneeling. +They were kissing their crucifixes and making a +woeful noise. Joe yelled, "Where's your skipper?" +but no one heeded him, and the moaning prayers went +on. With a curse Joe rushed aft. On his way he +saw the sounding rod, and he shouted, "See how +much she's got in her, Bill. There's a set of mounseers +forrad there, no more good than kittens."</p> + +<p>Then the mate entered the after-cabin, and found a +man on the floor. "What cheer, O, what cheer! +Tumble up, my daisy!"</p> + +<p>The man glared glassily, and muttered, "I speak +him Ingleese very good."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Never mind your Ingleese; come on, and make +your fellows help to pump." The captain rose, +reeled, and fell. He was mortal drunk.</p> + +<p>"You been do you dam please," he hiccupped; and +Joe retired with a shrug.</p> + +<p>It was clear that the English pilot had run a +Spanish ship aground, as nearly as possible, and only +the two anchors kept her from going hard on. The +two Englishmen found that the vessel had five feet of +water in her, and, in their plain, matter-of-fact way, +they set to work. Ugly washes were coming over, +but they lashed themselves to the pump and set to +work like the indomitable seadogs that they were. +They could not make her suck, but before they were +utterly exhausted they reduced the water much, and +then they cast themselves clear and began to prepare +for the tide. They put the fore topsail on her, and +then signalled for their own vessel. With a last +effort they got one anchor, but, when Joe proposed +trying the other, poor Billy groaned, "That's a pill +enough for me, Joe; I shall die if we stand to it any +more. Slip the other cable, boy." Joe agreed; the +anchor was lost, and the men prepared for the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +creak that would show that the tide was coming. The +sea seemed to be fining off a bit, so they looked round, +and found to their horror that the rudder was gone. +She wallowed. "There she goes, Bill. But Lord, +what a job! Tell you, the smack must go under bare +poles; we'll make her fast aft, and she'll steer us."</p> + +<p>This was a genuine seamanlike idea, for, of course, +the drag of the smack would steady the barque, and +the two vessels could crawl along with some approach +to surety. Another roll and groaning of timbers, then +came a lull and a flaw of wind; the topsail pulled, +and, with a long grind, the barque rolled off into deep +water.</p> + +<p>"Hooray! Let her drift as she likes till the skipper +gets to us."</p> + +<p>Bill jumped into the boat and guided her down +wind to the Esperanza. The smack came close +round, another hand joined Bill, and in half an hour a +couple of warps were made fast to the Spaniard, and +the two vessels went on in procession. They could +not do so much as a knot per hour, but, at all events, +they were drawing into open water, and the smack +steered the barque quite true.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a pity that a second hand did not remain +with Joe, but no one foresaw what would happen. +The good mate went below forward, and found the +men worse than ever from drink, panic, and religion. +He tried all he knew to fetch them on deck, but +nothing would serve. He tried the captain, but that +worthy seaman was sleeping like a hog, and the +cognac was running in slavers from his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder if he has 'em on when he starts +on the beer again," muttered Joe. He saw a large +sheath-knife, and secured that in his own belt; +then he took a mouthful of wine, and went to his +post.</p> + +<p>There was plenty of sea, but the prize was far too +valuable to be left, and Glenn determined to make a +bold bid for fortune. Not a single vessel passed +them all night, and they were lonely at dawn next +day. The sailors crept up one by one, but they only +gathered in a jabbering knot, and scowled at the +Englishman heavily. Joe made signs for them to +turn-to at the pumps, but they scowled still more. +Then he signed that he wanted something to eat, but +the fellows only looked venomous, and poor Joe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +groaned, "To-morrow's Christmas Day, and no +tommy to eat—let be the pudden!"</p> + +<p>It was indeed heartrending; but the skipper was a +thoughtful man, and when he found that his mate was +famine-struck, he risked swamping the boat, and sent +some beef and biscuit. The shameless Spaniards had +plenty below, but they were enraged for some reason +or other, and they would have let their deliverer +hunger himself to the bone.</p> + +<p>That evening, while Joe was easing the warps by +shoving pieces of coir where the bite came, he felt a +grip on his neck. Like a flash he thought, "Now, the +knife." He wrenched himself round, and there was +the Spanish captain, glaring, trembling, and +breathing hard.</p> + +<p>"See, see! You been help, Ingleese!" and he +pointed to the dusk as he shrieked.</p> + +<p>Joe saw at once that the man was wild with drink, +and he put on a smile, with a notion of coaxing the +captain over. In a little while he managed to get +him below, and, foolishly, filled him some more +cognac. Joe thought it best to stupefy the fellow, +and the brandy certainly did send him to sleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>That was a bad night, for the wind rose again, +and such a sea ran that Glenn gave up hope at midnight, +and got ready for the worst. At the dawn of +Christmas Day the skipper offered to relieve him, but +the risk would have been too much, and the dogged +East Coaster stuck to his work, though he was +aching, drenched, and so sleepy that he did not know +how to keep his eyes open.</p> + +<p>A queer Christmas? Yes, but not much more +queer than the Christmas passed by thousands of good +fellows on that treacherous great channel. The +warps both parted with an awful jerk at noon, just as +Joe was about to drink a dismal health to Sal with +some of the captain's cognac. He took a look round, +and, though I cannot say that his courage went, I am +bound to tell you that a kind of ferocious despair +seized on him when he found the <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original has 'bargue'.">barque</ins> yawing away +from the Esperanza. She might broach-to any time, +and then all would be over. Poor Joe! Not a soul +was there to comfort him. The Spanish sluggards +came up sometimes and scowled, then they went +below again. It was cruel work. The skipper of the +Esperanza made desperate efforts to get up, but dusk<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +fell before he came near, and then it was too late to +try anything especially as the barque was going yard-arm +under. Dark fell, and Joe heard moaning and +gibbering once more. The captain was creeping +along the deck, "saying something about Madd-ray," +as Joe put it. "It was him as was mad," the +smacksman said, with an attempt at humour. "He +made a try to stick me, and I felt something sting +my arm like a pin going in."</p> + +<p>That was true. The maddened drunkard made +a staggering attempt to stab Glenn, and then, with +a yell, he poised on the rail and jumped into the +sea.</p> + +<p>That was really about enough for one Christmas +Day, and Joe's nerve was all gone.</p> + +<p>The cold seemed to grip his blood, for he had taken +little good nourishment; the vessel was helpless, and +there was no shelter from the flying rivers of water +that came over. Joe felt that strange, hard pain +across the brows that seizes a man who has been long +sleepless, and he could have dozed off had it not been +for the continual breaking of the seas. He saw the +Esperanza's lights, and he wished that the boat could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +have been sent, if it were only to give him a little +company. The rolling of the barque was awful at two +in the morning, and, at last, one violent kick parted +the mizen rigging on the starboard side. Then +came one vast roll, and a ponderous rush of water, +and with a tearing crash, the mast went over the +side.</p> + +<p>Joe edged his way forward, and once more spoke to +the gang in the forecastle. By dint of signs he made +them understand that he wanted a hatchet, and he +also contrived to let them know that they must go +down unless the port rigging was severed. For a +wonder he got what he wanted, and he laboured until +his elbows were numbed before the bumping, rolling +mast was clear.</p> + +<p>Four hours till daylight, and wind and sea getting +worse. Something must be done, or the strained ship +would go for a certainty; it only wanted one unlucky +sea to settle her. But what could one man do? If +two of the sodden ruffians forrad would only come up, +then something might be done; but one tired sailor +was of little use. Glenn resolved to make one more +appeal to the Spaniards, for he had a bright plan in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +head, and he needed no more than the aid of two men +to carry it out. A spare mainyard was lashed out on +deck, and Joe had noticed it with the seaman's quick +eye when he came on board. If he could only get hold +of a spare topsail he could save the vessel, and he was +ready to go on his knees to the men if they would +show him a sail locker. After imploring, cursing +threatening, for five minutes, Joe at last got the mate +to lug out a sail; then he persuaded a lad who was +more sober than the rest to come on deck with a +lantern. Now, it will be noticed that foreign seamen +in general are dreadfully afraid of taking to the boat. +During this present winter our fellows have saved four +or five foreign crews, and in every case the vessels had +their own boats undamaged, but the men dursn't risk +the trip themselves, so our fishermen had to peril +their lives. The Spaniard's boat was lashed so +that no mortal could get her clear, and the little +craft was used as a sort of lumber-closet. Glenn +had noticed some steel rails in the boat, and he +guessed that these specimens of railway plant were +accidentally left out until the hatches had been +battened down.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>He thanked God for the negligence.</p> + +<p>Working with desperate speed, he rudely bent the +spare sail to the spar; then to the lower cloth of the +sail he managed to fix two of the weighty rails, and +then commenced to lug the yard past the vessel's +foremast. It takes a long time to tell all this, but Joe +was not long, though every movement was made at the +risk of his life. He hacked away two lengths of rope +measuring each about eighty feet; he made these into +bridles, knotting one end of each piece to the end of +the spar, and taking the other ends round the timber-heads. +Two pieces of thin rope, hauled out of the +hamper aft, were made fast to the ends of the steel rails, +and then Joe made a frantic effort to get his apparatus +over the side. No good; he must humiliate himself +again before those unspeakable aliens. Drenched, +agonised for lack of sleep, weak with exertion, and +bleeding from the hustling blows that he had received, +the poor soul besought the men to lend him a hand, +and swore to save them. They understood him fast +enough, and one peculiarly drunken individual blundered +up and obeyed Glenn's signs. With a violent effort +the spar was hoisted and dropped; the steel rails sank,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +and there was an apparatus like an enormous window-blind +hanging in the water. The barque soon felt the +pull of this novel anchor; she swung round, with her +head to the sea, and to Joe's passionate delight she +rode more softly, for the big spar broke every sea, +and very little water came on board afterwards. +The vessel was securely moored, for she could +not drag that great expanse of canvas through the +seas.</p> + +<p>When the grey light rose, there was quite plenty of +sea, but the barque was all right, and so was Joe, for +he had coolly gone below, and he fell asleep, with a +thankful heart, on the cabin bench. The ship was +quiet as a cradle, and the smack's boat got up to +her easily. The warps were made fast again, +and the two vessels once more went away in +procession.</p> + +<p>This time Joe had English company, and the two +men had a good time until the tug picked them up +off Lowestoft. Joe Glenn had not changed a stitch +for eleven days, but he did not mind the discomfort +the lump of salvage made up for much pain +and striving.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joe bought a good cottage with his share, and he +was satisfied; but I quite agreed with him when he +said that his money was hard earned. No man ever +spent a much queerer Christmas.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="JACK_BROWN" id="JACK_BROWN"></a>JACK BROWN.</h2> + +<p>When I first saw Jack, he had left his vessel at +Barking Creek, and he was enjoying a very +vigorous spree; but he never lost temper or became +stupefied, and his loud merriment was rather pleasant +than otherwise. Jack did not look by any means +like a rough, for his face had a kind of girlish beauty. +His dark cheeks were richly flushed, his throat was +round and white, and his blue eyes twinkled with fun. +He stood about six feet in height, and he would have +made a fine guardsman, for he looked as if he had +been carefully drilled all his life long. Men who +habitually exercise every muscle and tendon acquire +that graceful carriage which belongs to the military +gymnast. This fine young fellow was full of high +spirits and bodily power; courage was so natural to +him that I do not think such a word as "brave"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +ever entered his vocabulary. He had never been +afraid of anything in his life, and it did not occur to +him to think of danger. When Jack was a little +child he was taken out to sea in his father's vessel, and +henceforth a ship was his only home from year's end +to year's end. The boy was so daring that he made +some of the old hands nervous very often, and there +were many doleful prophecies made regarding the +ultimate fate of his carcase. On one blowy day when +the ships were pitching freely, it happened that +Jack's father went with fish to the steam cutter, +leaving the urchin on deck. As the old man drew +back within a quarter-mile of his smack, he saw a +black figure clambering along the gaff, and he knew +that it was Jack. Young Hopeful crawled from the +throat of the gaff to the very end of the spar, and +then proceeded to swarm up the gaff halyards—a +most perilous proceeding. The father was aghast; +he whispered hurriedly, "Pull, for God's sake; she'll +roll him overboard before we get up." But the young +monkey did not part with his hold so easily, and he +came down by the rings of the mainsail without so +much as grazing his shins.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> + +<p>In every vessel the men must have a plaything, +and Jack served his bigger comrades admirably in +that capacity. Had not his father been on board, the +lad might have been ill-used in the horrible way so +common in the old days; but the stern skipper +allowed no rough play, and the boy was merely set +on to perform harmless tricks. Once the men dared +him to climb down the bobstay, and he instantly +tried; but he gave the crew a scare, for he could not +climb back after the vessel had dipped him a few +times, and, last of all, the boat was towered to rescue +him. In hard weather and amid hard work, Jack +grew steadily in strength and skill. I have seen him +at work and he made me shudder, although the sight +of his amazing agility might have given anybody +confidence. On wet nights when the deck was like a +rink, he would make a rush as the boat pitched; then +he would pick up his rope unerringly in the dark and, +in another second, you would see him over the side +with one foot on the trawl-beam in an attitude risky +enough to make you want to close your eyes.</p> + +<p>It was nothing much to see him take a flying +spring on to the main boom in the dark, and hang<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +there reefing while the vessel jerked so that you +might have fancied she must send his ribs through +the skin. I say it was nothing, because he performed +this feat nearly every winter night, after the midnight +haul, and the spectacle grew common. I never knew +him bungle over a rope or make a bad slip, and it was +simply a pleasure to see him steer. He never threw +away an inch, and his way of stealing foot by foot +was worthy of any jockey. Sometimes when I was +at the wheel and running a little to leeward of another +vessel, he would say, "I reckon I can weather him, +sir, if you let me have her a bit;" and then, with +delicate touches and catlike watching of every puff +and every send of the sea, he would edge his way up, +and pass his opponent neatly.</p> + +<p>Most wonderful of all it was to see Jack handling +the small boat in heavy weather. While the wee +cockle-shell was rolling and bungling under our +quarter, he would jump on the rail, measure his +distance perfectly, spring on to the boat's gunwale +and fend her off before she made the return roll. A +marvellous performance that was, and the marvel only +increased when you saw the young fellow pitching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +heavy boxes of fish on to the deck of the great steam +cutter.</p> + +<p>With a roar, and a savage sweep the big seas +came; on their mountainous sides the shrill eddies of +wind played, and the lines of foam twined in wavering +mazes. Hill on hill gathered, and the seas looked +like swelling Downs piled heap on heap, while the +sonorous crests roared on hoarsely, and sometimes +the face of the wild water was obscured in the white +smoke plucked off by the gusts.</p> + +<p>Jack did not mind weather; the steamer hurled +herself up on the bulge of a sea, and then you could +get a glimpse of a tall, lithe figure, straining in the +small boat alongside the rearing iron hulk. That +splendid, lithe young lad performed prodigies of +strength and courage; the hulk and the little boat +sank down,—down until the steamer's mast-head +disappeared; then with a rush the wave slid away, +and the craft came toppling down the hither side of +the mountain, and still that lithe figure was there, +toiling fiercely and cleverly. Soon with a bound and +a loud laugh, he was on board of us again, and no one +could tell from one tremor of his merry, tawny face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +that he had been, of a truth, looking into the very +jaws of death.</p> + +<p>This splendid man was innocent as a child of all +worldly affairs unconnected with the sea. He once +told me, "I can make a shift to get along with an +easy book; but if I come to a hard word, I cry +'Wheelbarrows,' and skip him." On his own topics +he was very sensible, and no owner could have found +fault with him had he not been just a little racketty +on shore. In my refined days I remember reading in +one of Thackeray's books about a young lord who was +much loved by one Henry Esmond: My friend Jack +was very like that young man, and you could not get +vexed with him,—or, at any rate, you could not keep +vexed very long.</p> + +<p>We soon made friends in The Chequers, and before +midnight we were confidential. On my expressing +wonder at seeing a Barking lad among us, Jack +winked with profound meaning, and said, "I ain't +Barking at all, only for this trip. My gal's a Lowestoft +gal, and she've come up here, so I'm ready for +her Sunday out to-morrow. See?"</p> + +<p>Our second interview took place next day, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +saw the sweetheart. She was an ordinary pretty +servant-girl, such as most of the fishermen pick up +when they marry out of their own class; but I could +see that she was likely to make some difference in +John's rather convivial habits. She spoke like an +ignorant woman with strong natural sense, and when +Jack proposed having some beer, she said, "Ay, so! +That's the way you fare to go. I've seen them, as +soon as ever they leaves the pay-office, turning into +the public-house. And a master lot o' good that do, +doan't it now? Men workin' like beasts for two +months, and then dropping all their money into the +till in a week, and then off to sea short of clothes, +besides very likely getting into trouble. Nay! Have +yow a glass of ale if yow care, but no good never +come on it, what I know. Leastways, not for men +that goes to the sea."</p> + +<p>So Jack and I deferred to Sally's opinion—until +nine o'clock in the evening, and then we made up for +lost time. It was amusing to see the cool way in which +the handsome lad parted from his sweetheart. They +had not met for two months, and yet I do not believe +that they exchanged kisses either at meeting or parting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>These folk are strangely undemonstrative. They +are fond of each other, and most faithful, but they +show nothing. On a grim morning after a gale, when +the vessels are towing up with flags half-mast high, +the women will gather on the tow-path and by the +quays; you see white, drawn faces, but rarely a tear. +The bleak, perilous life of the men seems to be +known intimately to the women, and they accept the +worst fortune with a dry pathos that is heartbreaking. +Jack and his sweetheart were in the flush of youth—nay, +of physical beauty; they were passionately fond +of each other; and they parted like casual strangers. +When Jack went again below to the filthy, frowsy +cabin of the smack, and thought over the months of +cold, toil, drenching weather, and hard fare, I have no +doubt but that he thought of the pretty girl, but he +said very little, and larked on as usual as soon as +he got over his parting carouse.</p> + +<p>For several trips after this, my handsome fellow +was wild and careless; his splendid constitution +enabled him to drink with impunity the abominable +stuff sold by the Copers, and he was merely merry +when older soakers were delirious. His father and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +he parted, and the old man stayed at home as ship's +husband to a firm of smack owners, and the lad had +his head free. He was as desperately brave as ever, +for the subtle poison was long in attacking his nerve; +but many of his ways were queer, and the men +who went home in the returning smacks carried +unpleasant reports about him. At times, like Robert +Burns, George Morland, and men of that kidney, he +would give way to a passionate burst of repentance; +but in his case the repentance always departed with +the return of health and buoyancy.</p> + +<p>One night he stayed on board a coper until a +breeze came away; he then insisted on straddling +across the bow of the boat on the return journey, and +he lost his grip for once in his life and went overboard. +A dip of that sort, with heavy sea-boots on, +is rather dangerous, and Master Jack felt as though +all the water in the North Sea was dragging at his +legs; but he was hauled in at last. Even that +experience only cured him for a week, and then his +resorts to the brandy-bottle began again.</p> + +<p>At last, when he was putting fish aboard the +carrier, a letter was handed to him; he looked at it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +with rough tenderness, and crammed it, all greasy +and gruesome, under his jumper. On getting aboard, +he went to a quiet corner where the men could not +tease, and he read,</p> + +<p>"Dear John,—I write these few lines hoping you +are quite well as this leaves me at present, but i don't +think as you can be well if all is trew as we hear you +are very wild and you ont have no money to come +home if you doant watshe it. You must either stop +the beer or stop goin with me and then my heart +would be broak, every girl I see which married a +drinking man has supped sorrow for sertain, and the +man the same, and you will be just the same. Pray, +my dear, do take the right tirning, or I must keap +my word. So no more at present from your loveing +<span class="smcap">Sarah Kerrison</span>."</p> + +<p>Jack cursed once, and then muttered "Werra well, +let her. Let her go and take on some one better;" +but he was amazingly unhappy despite his defiance, +and his unhappiness drove him to frantic excesses. +He used to scare his companions by saying, "If God +takes my girl, they can talk about Him as they like, +but He shan't take my soul, not if I damn for it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +Then when the shuddering men said, "For mercy's +sake, shut up. It's enough to sink the wessel," he +would make answer, "Werra good, let her sink; and +the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>The days wore away, and the time came for Jack +to run home. The smack was well clear of the fleets +and spinning along nicely to southward on a dark +night, and Jack was at the wheel. His nerve was +just a little touched, and he muttered, "This is a +devil of a night. I wish we were well home."</p> + +<p>It was indeed a weird night; the wind thrummed +on the cordage; the gaff whistled with tremulous +sounds, as though some frightened soul were shivering +at the mast-head; and when the inky waves +rolled out of the gloom, they showed no definite +shape—only a sliding dark cloud fringed with white +flame. There is always a steady roar from the sails, +and one hears it better at night; Jack had often +heard the roar rise to a howl, but no noise that ever +he knew had such effect on him as the rushing moan +from the sails that night.</p> + +<p>There are only two men in a watch on board a +smack, and it often happens that one will go below to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +fetch some of the tea which the seamen drink so +insatiably. Jack's mate was below, but the helmsman +had no fear, as all was clear. He mused on, +always peering sharply round for a few minutes when +suddenly, over the haze which was rising, he saw a +white light, and then the loom of a green. "All +right; well clear," he muttered. "Glad the fog's +no higher. Why doesn't he use his whistle?" +Then, with the suddenness of lightning, he found +the red light opened on him, and, with a chill at his +heart, he discovered that he could not get his own +vessel out of the road. Once he sang out, and then +came the looming of a black mountain over him. +Until the monster's stem took him on the quarter +and the smack hurled over—hustled into the sea by +the impetus of the steamer—Jack never left go of his +wheel; he had a few seconds, and, with his nimble +spring, he rushed to the mizen rigging, nicked the +strings of one lifebuoy; lifted another from forward +of the companion, and then made his rush for the +forehatch.</p> + +<p>"All out. No time for the boats!"</p> + +<p>One man sprang up panting and Jack said, "Here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +you are, Harry. Shove that on, and jump. Jump +to windward." The smack reared up; there was a +long crashing rush of the swift water; then Jack saw +the liquid darkness over him, and he was just +beginning to hear that awful buzzing in the ears +when, with a roar, he felt the upper air swoop round +him.</p> + +<p>He could just see a coil of foam on the blackness +to mark where the smack had gone down, and, as he +cleared his eyes, he saw the cloudy shape of the +steamer far away. "Harry, boy!" he sang out, but +Harry must have been hit by a spar, and Jack Brown +was left alone on that bleak, black waste of wandering +water.</p> + +<p>"A lingering death," he murmured, as he felt the +spray cut round his head; but he struggled resolutely +to keep his face front the set of the sea, and the buoy +supported him bravely. His thoughts ran on things +past; he had spoken unkindly of Sally, behind her +back; he had been tipsy—Ah! how often! Then +he thought, "Shall I pray and repent?" All the +dare-devil in the deluded lad's soul arose at this +question, and he snarled "No. Blowed if I snivel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +just yet, only because I'm in a bad way." Oh, Jack, +Jack! And the deep grave weltering below you, and +only a ring of cork and oilskin to keep you out of that +cold home. Was there never a shudder as you +thought of the crowding fishes? Their merciless +cold eyes! Their grey, slimy skin! But Jack was +at that day a reckless fellow, and he lived to be +passionately sorry for his splenetic madness.</p> + +<p>The cold grew worse and worse, and it seemed to +creep toward Jack's heart. He gave one cry, and +instantly he heard a faint answer. Could it be the +scream of a gull? Nay, they rest at night. He +called again, and the voice of his agony was answered +by a loud hail; then a flare was lit, and Jack knew +that the steamer's boat had been searching for him.</p> + +<p>"Easy. Shove the painter under his arms, and +then two of you haul."</p> + +<p>So Jack was plumped into the boat, and lay limp +and sick. In an hour he was warm asleep in his +berth on board the steamer, and, I am afraid to say +that he begged hard for a pipe before he dozed +over.</p> + +<p>The steamer took him home, and he was received<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +in a matter-of-fact way by his people. He had had a +dousing! Yes, but it was all in the day's work. +That is the way in which the good folk talk.</p> + +<p>Jack was never the same again, and some of the +old men said "he looked as if he had seen something." +Yes, he had seen something, and he said to +Sally, "All right about that letter of yours. Let it +stick to the wall." The man was very grave and +kind, and he spoke freely to those of his cronies who +were on shore; but he would not go near his old +haunts, and some people thought he must have got +religious. Perhaps he had. At any rate something +that happened not long afterwards made the supposition +probable. Jack was on the Ter Schelling bank +when his turn came to go home again, and he was +moodily wondering whether any such ordeal would +ever be put on him as that which he endured when +the steamer sank his vessel.</p> + +<p>The weather looked ugly; the glass went fast +down, and a wild and leprous-looking moon shone +lividly through a shifting mask of troubled clouds. A +sullen calm fell, and the smack rolled with clashing +blocks and groaning spars, making night hideous. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +the morning a gale broke and soon came a blinding +fall of snow. It was impossible to see many yards +through the rushing drift of murky yellow, but Jack +took in all four reefs, and ran on with a rag of sail +and a three-cloth jib.</p> + +<p>It was not a sea that came away; it was a mere +enormous cataract that poured on irresistibly. Jack +knew that so long as he could keep the boat moving, +he might escape having his decks stove in, so he +determined to try it—neck or nothing. No man on +board knew when the sea might come which would +heave her down, and they watched grimly as the +gallant craft tore on. Some wanted to heave-to, but +the skipper knew that he would stand a good chance +of being smothered that way, and he resolved to get +as near home as possible, in case the hurricane grew +worse. After boring for ten hours in the worst of the +tremendous sea, he saw a vessel to leeward of him, +flying signals of distress. She was sinking, and her +boat was smashed. The mate said, "That poor chap +on't see land." Jack thought a little, and then he +said, "I'm going to try. Out with your boat." Discipline +on board the smacks is not very strict, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +the men were inclined to question the wisdom of +Jack's proposal; but Englishmen always lean to +humanity, and with a little persuasion, all hands +volunteered. Jack took one unmarried man, and +then coolly proceeded to make his wild attempt. It +was a forlorn kind of chance for everybody, but as +Jack said, "I was saved once, and I know what them +poor bloods feel like."</p> + +<p>The little boat had first of all to run down on the +sinking smack, and then, at the risk of capsizing, +Jack's vessel ran to leeward and came round, sending +everything shaking as she came up. Only desperately +brave and supremely kindly people would have dared +such a thing, and even the skipper of the foundering +vessel said, "Well, chaps, I thought no one but a +mad one would a-tried it on; but Gord bless you all +the same."</p> + +<p>After that, Jack was obliged to let go his anchor +within sound of breakers, and his fight with death +lasted all night. The lifeboats could not get out to +him, and he could only pray that the snow-curtain +might lift. In the morning a slant of wind came +which enabled him to get away from the gnashing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +breakers, and he got in with the loss of his gaff. +Sally was home for Christmas-time, and she was +mighty proud when no less a person than the Mayor +presented Jack with a town's subscription, which was +quite enough to fit up a house.</p> + +<p>Jack is my favourite of all the loose fish I have +known, and if ever I take up my place again—alas!—I +shall have him with me, and make him live +ashore.</p> + +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Swift</span> & Co., Printers, 2, Newton Street, High Holborn, W.C.</p> + +<hr /> +<h3>Transcriber's note</h3> + +<p>The following corrections were made to the text:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>Page</td><td align='left'>Problem</td><td align='left'>Correction</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>14</td><td align='left'>found the</td><td align='left'>found that the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>16</td><td align='left'>the nthe</td><td align='left'>then the</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>21</td><td align='left'>had manage</td><td align='left'>had managed</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>74</td><td align='left'>How is this?</td><td align='left'>"How is this?</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>79</td><td align='left'>laulo Rye.</td><td align='left'>laulo Rye."</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>79</td><td align='left'>Rye.</td><td align='left'>Rye.)</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>95</td><td align='left'>We must have</td><td align='left'>"We must have</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>95</td><td align='left'>enagagement</td><td align='left'>engagement</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>125</td><td align='left'>No one better</td><td align='left'>"No one better</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>129</td><td align='left'>you are touched</td><td align='left'>you are touched.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>130</td><td align='left'>convervation</td><td align='left'>conversation</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>137</td><td align='left'>fraced</td><td align='left'>traced</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>141</td><td align='left'>youself</td><td align='left'>yourself</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>143</td><td align='left'>six at night</td><td align='left'>six at night.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>143</td><td align='left'>all the day</td><td align='left'>all the day.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>162</td><td align='left'>Ned Donnelly's?</td><td align='left'>Ned Donnelly's.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>200</td><td align='left'>ower</td><td align='left'>power</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>201</td><td align='left'>Do you want</td><td align='left'>"Do you want</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p>The following variations in hyphenations have been left unchanged.</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'>arm-pits</td><td align='left'>armpits</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>mast-head</td><td align='left'>masthead</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Chequers, by James Runciman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHEQUERS *** + +***** This file should be named 18510-h.htm or 18510-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/5/1/18510/ + +Produced by Steven Gibbs, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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