THE
OBSERVATIONS
OF
HENRY
BY
JEROME
K
.
JEROME
author
of
“
three
men
in
a
boat
,
”
“
diary
of
a
pilgrimage
,
”
“
three
men
on
the
bummel
,
”
etc.
bristol
J
.
W
.
Arrowsmith
,
Quay
Street
london
Simpkin
,
Marshall
,
Hamilton
,
Kent
and
Company
Limited
1901
THE
GHOST
OF
THE
MARCHIONESS
OF
APPLEFORD
.
This
is
the
story
,
among
others
,
of
Henry
the
waiter
—
or
,
as
he
now
prefers
to
call
himself
,
Henri
—
told
to
me
in
the
long
dining-room
of
the
Riffel
Alp
Hotel
,
where
I
once
stayed
for
a
melancholy
week
“
between
seasons
,
”
sharing
the
echoing
emptiness
of
the
place
with
two
maiden
ladies
,
who
talked
all
day
to
one
another
in
frightened
whispers
.
Henry’s
construction
I
have
discarded
for
its
amateurishness
;
his
method
being
generally
to
commence
a
story
at
the
end
,
and
then
,
working
backwards
to
the
beginning
,
wind
up
with
the
middle
.
But
in
all
other
respects
I
have
endeavoured
to
retain
his
method
,
which
was
individual
;
and
this
,
I
think
,
is
the
story
as
he
would
have
told
it
to
me
himself
,
had
he
told
it
in
this
order
:
My
first
place
—
well
to
be
honest
,
it
was
a
coffee
shop
in
the
Mile
End
Road
—
I’m
not
ashamed
of
it
.
We
all
have
our
beginnings
.
Young
“
Kipper
,
”
as
we
called
him
—
he
had
no
name
of
his
own
,
not
that
he
knew
of
anyhow
,
and
that
seemed
to
fit
him
down
to
the
ground
—
had
fixed
his
pitch
just
outside
,
between
our
door
and
the
music
hall
at
the
corner
;
and
sometimes
,
when
I
might
happen
to
have
a
bit
on
,
I’d
get
a
paper
from
him
,
and
pay
him
for
it
,
when
the
governor
was
not
about
,
with
a
mug
of
coffee
,
and
odds
and
ends
that
the
other
customers
had
left
on
their
plates
—
an
arrangement
that
suited
both
of
us
.
He
was
just
about
as
sharp
as
they
make
boys
,
even
in
the
Mile
End
Road
,
which
is
saying
a
good
deal
;
and
now
and
then
,
spying
around
among
the
right
sort
,
and
keeping
his
ears
open
,
he
would
put
me
up
to
a
good
thing
,
and
I
would
tip
him
a
bob
or
a
tanner
as
the
case
might
be
.
He
was
the
sort
that
gets
on
—
you
know
.
One
day
in
he
walks
,
for
all
the
world
as
if
the
show
belonged
to
him
,
with
a
young
imp
of
a
girl
on
his
arm
,
and
down
they
sits
at
one
of
the
tables
.
“
Garsong
,
”
he
calls
out
,
“
what’s
the
menoo
to-day
?
”
“
The
menoo
to-day
,
”
I
says
,
“
is
that
you
get
outside
’fore
I
clip
you
over
the
ear
,
and
that
you
take
that
back
and
put
it
where
you
found
it
;
”
meaning
o’
course
,
the
kid
.
She
was
a
pretty
little
thing
,
even
then
,
in
spite
of
the
dirt
,
with
those
eyes
like
saucers
,
and
red
hair
.
It
used
to
be
called
“
carrots
”
in
those
days
.
Now
all
the
swells
have
taken
it
up
—
or
as
near
as
they
can
get
to
it
—
and
it’s
auburn
.
“
’Enery
,
”
he
replied
to
me
,
without
so
much
as
turning
a
hair
,
“
I’m
afraid
you’re
forgetting
your
position
.
When
I’m
on
the
kerb
shouting
‘Speshul
!
’
and
you
comes
to
me
with
yer
’a’penny
in
yer
’and
,
you’re
master
an’
I’m
man
.
When
I
comes
into
your
shop
to
order
refreshments
,
and
to
pay
for
’em
,
I’m
boss
.
Savey
?
You
can
bring
me
a
rasher
and
two
eggs
,
and
see
that
they’re
this
season’s
.
The
lidy
will
have
a
full-sized
haddick
and
a
cocoa
.
”
Well
,
there
was
justice
in
what
he
said
.
He
always
did
have
sense
,
and
I
took
his
order
.
You
don’t
often
see
anybody
put
it
away
like
that
girl
did
.
I
took
it
she
hadn’t
had
a
square
meal
for
many
a
long
day
.
She
polished
off
a
ninepenny
haddick
,
skin
and
all
,
and
after
that
she
had
two
penny
rashers
,
with
six
slices
of
bread
and
butter
—
“
doorsteps
,
”
as
we
used
to
call
them
—
and
two
half
pints
of
cocoa
,
which
is
a
meal
in
itself
the
way
we
used
to
make
it
.
“
Kipper
”
must
have
had
a
bit
of
luck
that
day
.
He
couldn’t
have
urged
her
on
more
had
it
been
a
free
feed
.
“
’Ave
an
egg
,
”
he
suggested
,
the
moment
the
rashers
had
disappeared
.
“
One
of
these
eggs
will
just
about
finish
yer
.
”
“
I
don’t
really
think
as
I
can
,
”
says
she
,
after
considering
like
.
“
Well
,
you
know
your
own
strength
,
”
he
answers
.
“
Perhaps
you’re
best
without
it
.
Speshully
if
yer
not
used
to
’igh
living
.
”
I
was
glad
to
see
them
finish
,
’cause
I
was
beginning
to
get
a
bit
nervous
about
the
coin
,
but
he
paid
up
right
enough
,
and
giv
me
a
ha’penny
for
myself
.
That
was
the
first
time
I
ever
waited
upon
those
two
,
but
it
wasn’t
to
be
the
last
by
many
a
long
chalk
,
as
you’ll
see
.
He
often
used
to
bring
her
in
after
that
.
Who
she
was
and
what
she
was
he
didn’t
know
,
and
she
didn’t
know
,
so
there
was
a
pair
of
them
.
She’d
run
away
from
an
old
woman
down
Limehouse
way
,
who
used
to
beat
her
.
That
was
all
she
could
tell
him
.
He
got
her
a
lodging
with
an
old
woman
,
who
had
an
attic
in
the
same
house
where
he
slept
—
when
it
would
run
to
that
—
taught
her
to
yell
“
Speshul
!
”
and
found
a
corner
for
her
.
There
ain’t
room
for
boys
and
girls
in
the
Mile-End
Road
.
They’re
either
kids
down
there
or
they’re
grown-ups
.
“
Kipper
”
and
“
Carrots
”
—
as
we
named
her
—
looked
upon
themselves
as
sweethearts
,
though
he
couldn’t
have
been
more
than
fifteen
,
and
she
barely
twelve
;
and
that
he
was
regular
gone
on
her
anyone
could
see
with
half
an
eye
.
Not
that
he
was
soft
about
it
—
that
wasn’t
his
style
.
He
kept
her
in
order
,
and
she
had
just
to
mind
,
which
I
guess
was
a
good
thing
for
her
,
and
when
she
wanted
it
he’d
use
his
hand
on
her
,
and
make
no
bones
about
it
.
That’s
the
way
among
that
class
.
They
up
and
give
the
old
woman
a
friendly
clump
,
just
as
you
or
me
would
swear
at
the
missus
,
or
fling
a
boot-jack
at
her
.
They
don’t
mean
anything
more
.
I
left
the
coffee
shop
later
on
for
a
place
in
the
city
,
and
saw
nothing
more
of
them
for
five
years
.
When
I
did
it
was
at
a
restaurant
in
Oxford
Street
—
one
of
those
amatoor
shows
run
by
a
lot
of
women
,
who
know
nothing
about
the
business
,
and
spend
the
whole
day
gossiping
and
flirting
—
“
love-shops
,
”
I
call
’em
.
There
was
a
yellow-haired
lady
manageress
who
never
heard
you
when
you
spoke
to
her
,
’cause
she
was
always
trying
to
hear
what
some
seedy
old
fool
would
be
whispering
to
her
across
the
counter
.
Then
there
were
waitresses
,
and
their
notion
of
waiting
was
to
spend
an
hour
talking
to
a
twopenny
cup
of
coffee
,
and
to
look
haughty
and
insulted
whenever
anybody
as
really
wanted
something
ventured
to
ask
for
it
.
A
frizzle-haired
cashier
used
to
make
love
all
day
out
of
her
pigeon-hole
with
the
two
box-office
boys
from
the
Oxford
Music
Hall
,
who
took
it
turn
and
turn
about
.
Sometimes
she’d
leave
off
to
take
a
customer’s
money
,
and
sometimes
she
wouldn’t
.
I’ve
been
to
some
rummy
places
in
my
time
;
and
a
waiter
ain’t
the
blind
owl
as
he’s
supposed
to
be
.
But
never
in
my
life
have
I
seen
so
much
love-making
,
not
all
at
once
,
as
used
to
go
on
in
that
place
.
It
was
a
dismal
,
gloomy
sort
of
hole
,
and
spoony
couples
seemed
to
scent
it
out
by
instinct
,
and
would
spend
hours
there
over
a
pot
of
tea
and
assorted
pastry
.
“
Idyllic
,
”
some
folks
would
have
thought
it
:
I
used
to
get
the
fair
dismals
watching
it
.
There
was
one
girl
—
a
weird-looking
creature
,
with
red
eyes
and
long
thin
hands
,
that
gave
you
the
creeps
to
look
at
.
She’d
come
in
regular
with
her
young
man
,
a
pale-faced
nervous
sort
of
chap
,
at
three
o’clock
every
afternoon
.
Theirs
was
the
funniest
love-making
I
ever
saw
.
She’d
pinch
him
under
the
table
,
and
run
pins
into
him
,
and
he’d
sit
with
his
eyes
glued
on
her
as
if
she’d
been
a
steaming
dish
of
steak
and
onions
and
he
a
starving
beggar
the
other
side
of
the
window
.
A
strange
story
that
was
—
as
I
came
to
learn
it
later
on
.
I’ll
tell
you
that
,
one
day
.
I’d
been
engaged
for
the
“
heavy
work
,
”
but
as
the
heaviest
order
I
ever
heard
given
there
was
for
a
cold
ham
and
chicken
,
which
I
had
to
slip
out
for
to
the
nearest
cook-shop
,
I
must
have
been
chiefly
useful
from
an
ornamental
point
of
view
.
I’d
been
there
about
a
fortnight
,
and
was
feeling
pretty
sick
of
it
,
when
in
walked
young
“
Kipper
.
”
I
didn’t
know
him
at
first
,
he’d
changed
so
.
He
was
swinging
a
silver-mounted
crutch
stick
,
which
was
the
kind
that
was
fashionable
just
then
,
and
was
dressed
in
a
showy
check
suit
and
a
white
hat
.
But
the
thing
that
struck
me
most
was
his
gloves
.
I
suppose
I
hadn’t
improved
quite
so
much
myself
,
for
he
knew
me
in
a
moment
,
and
held
out
his
hand
.
“
What
,
’Enery
!
”
he
says
,
“
you’ve
moved
on
,
then
!
”
“
Yes
,
”
I
says
,
shaking
hands
with
him
,
“
and
I
could
move
on
again
from
this
shop
without
feeling
sad
.
But
you’ve
got
on
a
bit
?
”
I
says
.
“
So-so
,
”
he
says
,
“
I’m
a
journalist
.
”
“
Oh
,
”
I
says
,
“
what
sort
?
”
for
I’d
seen
a
good
many
of
that
lot
during
six
months
I’d
spent
at
a
house
in
Fleet
Street
,
and
their
get-up
hadn’t
sumptuousness
about
it
,
so
to
speak
.
“
Kipper’s
”
rig-out
must
have
totted
up
to
a
tidy
little
sum
.
He
had
a
diamond
pin
in
his
tie
that
must
have
cost
somebody
fifty
quid
,
if
not
him
.
“
Well
,
”
he
answers
,
“
I
don’t
wind
out
the
confidential
advice
to
old
Beaky
,
and
that
sort
of
thing
.
I
do
the
tips
,
yer
know
.
‘Cap’n
Kit
,
’
that’s
my
name
.
”
“
What
,
the
Captain
Kit
?
”
I
says
.
O’
course
I’d
heard
of
him
.
“
Be’old
!
”
he
says
.
“
Oh
,
it’s
easy
enough
,
”
he
goes
on
.
“
Some
of
’em’s
bound
to
come
out
right
,
and
when
one
does
,
you
take
it
from
me
,
our
paper
mentions
the
fact
.
And
when
it
is
a
wrong
’un
—
well
,
a
man
can’t
always
be
shouting
about
himself
,
can
’e
?
”
He
ordered
a
cup
of
coffee
.
He
said
he
was
waiting
for
someone
,
and
we
got
to
chatting
about
old
times
.
“
How’s
Carrots
?
”
I
asked
.
“
Miss
Caroline
Trevelyan
,
”
he
answered
,
“
is
doing
well
.
”
“
Oh
,
”
I
says
,
“
you’ve
found
out
her
fam’ly
name
,
then
?
”
“
We’ve
found
out
one
or
two
things
about
that
lidy
,
”
he
replies
.
“
D’yer
remember
’er
dancing
?
”
“
I
have
seen
her
flinging
her
petticoats
about
outside
the
shop
,
when
the
copper
wasn’t
by
,
if
that’s
what
you
mean
,
”
I
says
.
“
That’s
what
I
mean
,
”
he
answers
.
“
That’s
all
the
rage
now
,
‘skirt-dancing’
they
calls
it
.
She’s
a-coming
out
at
the
Oxford
to-morrow
.
It’s
’er
I’m
waiting
for
.
She’s
a-coming
on
,
I
tell
you
she
is
,
”
he
says
.
“
Shouldn’t
wonder
,
”
says
I
;
“
that
was
her
disposition
.
”
“
And
there’s
another
thing
we’ve
found
out
about
’er
,
”
he
says
.
He
leant
over
the
table
,
and
whispered
it
,
as
if
he
was
afraid
that
anybody
else
might
hear
:
“
she’s
got
a
voice
.
”
“
Yes
,
”
I
says
,
“
some
women
have
.
”
“
Ah
,
”
he
says
,
“
but
’er
voice
is
the
sort
of
voice
yer
want
to
listen
to
.
”
“
Oh
,
”
I
says
,
“
that’s
its
speciality
,
is
it
?
”
“
That’s
it
,
sonny
,
”
he
replies
.
She
came
in
a
little
later
.
I’d
a’
known
her
anywhere
for
her
eyes
,
and
her
red
hair
,
in
spite
of
her
being
that
clean
you
might
have
eaten
your
dinner
out
of
her
hand
.
And
as
for
her
clothes
!
Well
,
I’ve
mixed
a
good
deal
with
the
toffs
in
my
time
,
and
I’ve
seen
duchesses
dressed
more
showily
and
maybe
more
expensively
,
but
her
clothes
seemed
to
be
just
a
framework
to
show
her
up
.
She
was
a
beauty
,
you
can
take
it
from
me
;
and
it’s
not
to
be
wondered
that
the
La-De-Das
were
round
her
when
they
did
see
her
,
like
flies
round
an
open
jam
tart
.
Before
three
months
were
up
she
was
the
rage
of
London
—
leastways
of
the
music-hall
part
of
it
—
with
her
portrait
in
all
the
shop
windows
,
and
interviews
with
her
in
half
the
newspapers
.
It
seems
she
was
the
daughter
of
an
officer
who
had
died
in
India
when
she
was
a
baby
,
and
the
niece
of
a
bishop
somewhere
in
Australia
.
He
was
dead
too
.
There
didn’t
seem
to
be
any
of
her
ancestry
as
wasn’t
dead
,
but
they
had
all
been
swells
.
She
had
been
educated
privately
,
she
had
,
by
a
relative
;
and
had
early
displayed
an
aptitude
for
dancing
,
though
her
friends
at
first
had
much
opposed
her
going
upon
the
stage
.
There
was
a
lot
more
of
it
—
you
know
the
sort
of
thing
.
Of
course
,
she
was
a
connection
of
one
of
our
best
known
judges
—
they
all
are
—
and
she
merely
acted
in
order
to
support
a
grandmother
,
or
an
invalid
sister
,
I
forget
which
.
A
wonderful
talent
for
swallowing
,
these
newspaper
chaps
has
,
some
of
’em
!
“
Kipper
”
never
touched
a
penny
of
her
money
,
but
if
he
had
been
her
agent
at
twenty-five
per
cent
.
he
couldn’t
have
worked
harder
,
and
he
just
kept
up
the
hum
about
her
,
till
if
you
didn’t
want
to
hear
anything
more
about
Caroline
Trevelyan
,
your
only
chance
would
have
been
to
lie
in
bed
,
and
never
look
at
a
newspaper
.
It
was
Caroline
Trevelyan
at
Home
,
Caroline
Trevelyan
at
Brighton
,
Caroline
Trevelyan
and
the
Shah
of
Persia
,
Caroline
Trevelyan
and
the
Old
Apple-woman
.
When
it
wasn’t
Caroline
Trevelyan
herself
it
would
be
Caroline
Trevelyan’s
dog
as
would
be
doing
something
out
of
the
common
,
getting
himself
lost
or
summoned
or
drowned
—
it
didn’t
matter
much
what
.
I
moved
from
Oxford
Street
to
the
new
“
Horseshoe
”
that
year
—
it
had
just
been
rebuilt
—
and
there
I
saw
a
good
deal
of
them
,
for
they
came
in
to
lunch
there
or
supper
pretty
regular
.
Young
“
Kipper
”
—
or
the
“
Captain
”
as
everybody
called
him
—
gave
out
that
he
was
her
half-brother
.
“
I’ad
to
be
some
sort
of
a
relation
,
you
see
,
”
he
explained
to
me
.
“
I’d
a’
been
’er
brother
out
and
out
;
that
would
have
been
simpler
,
only
the
family
likeness
wasn’t
strong
enough
.
Our
styles
o’
beauty
ain’t
similar
.
”
They
certainly
wasn’t
.
“
Why
don’t
you
marry
her
?
”
I
says
,
“
and
have
done
with
it
?
”
He
looked
thoughtful
at
that
.
“
I
did
think
of
it
,
”
he
says
,
“
and
I
know
,
jolly
well
,
that
if
I
’ad
suggested
it
’fore
she’d
found
herself
,
she’d
have
agreed
,
but
it
don’t
seem
quite
fair
now
.
”
“
How
d’ye
mean
fair
?
”
I
says
.
“
Well
,
not
fair
to
’er
,
”
he
says
.
“
I’ve
got
on
all
right
,
in
a
small
way
;
but
she
—
well
,
she
can
just
’ave
’er
pick
of
the
nobs
.
There’s
one
on
’em
as
I’ve
made
inquiries
about
.
’E’ll
be
a
dook
,
if
a
kid
pegs
out
as
is
expected
to
,
and
anyhow
’e’ll
be
a
markis
,
and
’e
means
the
straight
thing
—
no
errer
.
It
ain’t
fair
for
me
to
stand
in
’er
way
.
”
“
Well
,
”
I
says
,
“
you
know
your
own
business
,
but
it
seems
to
me
she
wouldn’t
have
much
way
to
stand
in
if
it
hadn’t
been
for
you
.
”
“
Oh
,
that’s
all
right
,
”
he
says
.
“
I’m
fond
enough
of
the
gell
,
but
I
shan’t
clamour
for
a
tombstone
with
wiolets
,
even
if
she
ain’t
ever
Mrs.
Capt’n
Kit
.
Business
is
business
;
and
I
ain’t
going
to
queer
’er
pitch
for
’er
.
”
I’ve
often
wondered
what
she’d
a’
said
,
if
he’d
up
and
put
the
case
to
her
plain
,
for
she
was
a
good
sort
;
but
,
naturally
enough
,
her
head
was
a
bit
swelled
,
and
she’d
read
so
much
rot
about
herself
in
the
papers
that
she’d
got
at
last
to
half
believe
some
of
it
.
The
thought
of
her
connection
with
the
well-known
judge
seemed
to
hamper
her
at
times
,
and
she
wasn’t
quite
so
chummy
with
“
Kipper
”
as
used
to
be
the
case
in
the
Mile-End
Road
days
,
and
he
wasn’t
the
sort
as
is
slow
to
see
a
thing
.
One
day
when
he
was
having
lunch
by
himself
,
and
I
was
waiting
on
him
,
he
says
,
raising
his
glass
to
his
lips
,
“
Well
,
’Enery
,
here’s
luck
to
yer
!
I
won’t
be
seeing
you
agen
for
some
time
.
”
“
Oh
,
”
I
says
.
“
What’s
up
now
?
”
“
I
am
,
”
he
says
,
“
or
rather
my
time
is
.
I’m
off
to
Africa
.
”
“
Oh
,
”
I
says
,
“
and
what
about
—
”
“
That’s
all
right
,
”
he
interrupts
.
“
I’ve
fixed
up
that
—
a
treat
.
Truth
,
that’s
why
I’m
going
.
”
I
thought
at
first
he
meant
she
was
going
with
him
.
“
No
,
”
he
says
,
“
she’s
going
to
be
the
Duchess
of
Ridingshire
with
the
kind
consent
o’
the
kid
I
spoke
about
.
If
not
,
she’ll
be
the
Marchioness
of
Appleford
.
’E’s
doing
the
square
thing
.
There’s
going
to
be
a
quiet
marriage
to-morrow
at
the
Registry
Office
,
and
then
I’m
off
.
”
“
What
need
for
you
to
go
?
”
I
says
.
“
No
need
,
”
he
says
;
“
it’s
a
fancy
o’
mine
.
You
see
,
me
gone
,
there’s
nothing
to
’amper
’er
—
nothing
to
interfere
with
’er
settling
down
as
a
quiet
,
respectable
toff
.
With
a
’alf-brother
,
who’s
always
got
to
be
spry
with
some
fake
about
’is
lineage
and
’is
ancestral
estates
,
and
who
drops
’is
‘h’s
,
’
complications
are
sooner
or
later
bound
to
a-rise
.
Me
out
of
it
—
everything’s
simple
.
Savey
?
”
Well
,
that’s
just
how
it
happened
.
Of
course
,
there
was
a
big
row
when
the
family
heard
of
it
,
and
a
smart
lawyer
was
put
up
to
try
and
undo
the
thing
.
No
expense
was
spared
,
you
bet
;
but
it
was
all
no
go
.
Nothing
could
be
found
out
against
her
.
She
just
sat
tight
and
said
nothing
.
So
the
thing
had
to
stand
.
They
went
and
lived
quietly
in
the
country
and
abroad
for
a
year
or
two
,
and
then
folks
forgot
a
bit
,
and
they
came
back
to
London
.
I
often
used
to
see
her
name
in
print
,
and
then
the
papers
always
said
as
how
she
was
charming
and
graceful
and
beautiful
,
so
I
suppose
the
family
had
made
up
its
mind
to
get
used
to
her
.
One
evening
in
she
comes
to
the
Savoy
.
My
wife
put
me
up
to
getting
that
job
,
and
a
good
job
it
is
,
mind
you
,
when
you
know
your
way
about
.
I’d
never
have
had
the
cheek
to
try
for
it
,
if
it
hadn’t
been
for
the
missis
.
She’s
a
clever
one
—
she
is
.
I
did
a
good
day’s
work
when
I
married
her
.
“
You
shave
off
that
moustache
of
yours
—
it
ain’t
an
ornament
,
”
she
says
to
me
,
“
and
chance
it
.
Don’t
get
attempting
the
lingo
.
Keep
to
the
broken
English
,
and
put
in
a
shrug
or
two
.
You
can
manage
that
all
right
.
”
I
followed
her
tip
.
Of
course
the
manager
saw
through
me
,
but
I
got
in
a
“
Oui
,
monsieur
”
now
and
again
,
and
they
,
being
short
handed
at
the
time
,
could
not
afford
to
be
strict
,
I
suppose
.
Anyhow
I
got
took
on
,
and
there
I
stopped
for
the
whole
season
,
and
that
was
the
making
of
me
.
Well
,
as
I
was
saying
,
in
she
comes
to
the
supper
rooms
,
and
toffy
enough
she
looked
in
her
diamonds
and
furs
,
and
as
for
haughtiness
there
wasn’t
a
born
Marchioness
she
couldn’t
have
given
points
to
.
She
comes
straight
up
to
my
table
and
sits
down
.
Her
husband
was
with
her
,
but
he
didn’t
seem
to
have
much
to
say
,
except
to
repeat
her
orders
.
Of
course
I
looked
as
if
I’d
never
set
eyes
on
her
before
in
all
my
life
,
though
all
the
time
she
was
a-pecking
at
the
mayonnaise
and
a-sipping
at
the
Giessler
,
I
was
thinking
of
the
coffee-shop
and
of
the
ninepenny
haddick
and
the
pint
of
cocoa
.
“
Go
and
fetch
my
cloak
,
”
she
says
to
him
after
a
while
.
“
I
am
cold
.
”
And
up
he
gets
and
goes
out
.
She
never
moved
her
head
,
and
spoke
as
though
she
was
merely
giving
me
some
order
,
and
I
stands
behind
her
chair
,
respectful
like
,
and
answers
according
to
the
same
tip
,
“
Ever
hear
from
‘Kipper’
?
”
she
says
to
me
.
“
I
have
had
one
or
two
letters
from
him
,
your
ladyship
,
”
I
answers
.
“
Oh
,
stow
that
,
”
she
says
.
“
I
am
sick
of
‘your
ladyship.’
Talk
English
;
I
don’t
hear
much
of
it
.
How’s
he
getting
on
?
”
“
Seems
to
be
doing
himself
well
,
”
I
says
.
“
He’s
started
an
hotel
,
and
is
regular
raking
it
in
,
he
tells
me
.
”
“
Wish
I
was
behind
the
bar
with
him
!
”
says
she
.
“
Why
,
don’t
it
work
then
?
”
I
asks
.
“
It’s
just
like
a
funeral
with
the
corpse
left
out
,
”
says
she
.
“
Serves
me
jolly
well
right
for
being
a
fool
!
”
The
Marquis
,
he
comes
back
with
her
cloak
at
that
moment
,
and
I
says
:
“
Certainement
,
madame
,
”
and
gets
clear
.
I
often
used
to
see
her
there
,
and
when
a
chance
occurred
she
would
talk
to
me
.
It
seemed
to
be
a
relief
to
her
to
use
her
own
tongue
,
but
it
made
me
nervous
at
times
for
fear
someone
would
hear
her
.
Then
one
day
I
got
a
letter
from
“
Kipper
”
to
say
he
was
over
for
a
holiday
and
was
stopping
at
Morley’s
,
and
asking
me
to
look
him
up
.
He
had
not
changed
much
except
to
get
a
bit
fatter
and
more
prosperous-looking
.
Of
course
,
we
talked
about
her
ladyship
,
and
I
told
him
what
she
said
.
“
Rum
things
,
women
,
”
he
says
;
“
never
know
their
own
minds
.
”
“
Oh
,
they
know
them
all
right
when
they
get
there
,
”
I
says
.
“
How
could
she
tell
what
being
a
Marchioness
was
like
till
she’d
tried
it
?
”
“
Pity
,
”
he
says
,
musing
like
.
“
I
reckoned
it
the
very
thing
she’d
tumble
to
.
I
only
come
over
to
get
a
sight
of
’er
,
and
to
satisfy
myself
as
she
was
getting
along
all
right
.
Seems
I’d
better
a’
stopped
away
.
”
“
You
ain’t
ever
thought
of
marrying
yourself
?
”
I
asks
.
“
Yes
,
I
have
,
”
he
says
.
“
It’s
slow
for
a
man
over
thirty
with
no
wife
and
kids
to
bustle
him
,
you
take
it
from
me
,
and
I
ain’t
the
talent
for
the
Don
Juan
fake
.
”
“
You’re
like
me
,
”
I
says
,
“
a
day’s
work
,
and
then
a
pipe
by
your
own
fireside
with
your
slippers
on
.
That’s
my
swarry
.
You’ll
find
someone
as
will
suit
you
before
long
.
”
“
No
I
shan’t
,
”
says
he
.
“
I’ve
come
across
a
few
as
might
,
if
it
’adn’t
been
for
’er
.
It’s
like
the
toffs
as
come
out
our
way
.
They’ve
been
brought
up
on
‘ris
de
veau
à
la
financier
,
’
and
sich
like
,
and
it
just
spoils
’em
for
the
bacon
and
greens
.
”
I
give
her
the
office
the
next
time
I
see
her
,
and
they
met
accidental
like
in
Kensington
Gardens
early
one
morning
.
What
they
said
to
one
another
I
don’t
know
,
for
he
sailed
that
same
evening
,
and
,
it
being
the
end
of
the
season
,
I
didn’t
see
her
ladyship
again
for
a
long
while
.
When
I
did
it
was
at
the
Hôtel
Bristol
in
Paris
,
and
she
was
in
widow’s
weeds
,
the
Marquis
having
died
eight
months
before
.
He
never
dropped
into
that
dukedom
,
the
kid
turning
out
healthier
than
was
expected
,
and
hanging
on
;
so
she
was
still
only
a
Marchioness
,
and
her
fortune
,
though
tidy
,
was
nothing
very
big
—
not
as
that
class
reckons
.
By
luck
I
was
told
off
to
wait
on
her
,
she
having
asked
for
someone
as
could
speak
English
.
She
seemed
glad
to
see
me
and
to
talk
to
me
.
“
Well
,
”
I
says
,
“
I
suppose
you’ll
be
bossing
that
bar
in
Capetown
now
before
long
?
”
“
Talk
sense
,
”
she
answers
.
“
How
can
the
Marchioness
of
Appleford
marry
a
hotel
keeper
?
”
“
Why
not
,
”
I
says
,
“
if
she
fancies
him
?
What’s
the
good
of
being
a
Marchioness
if
you
can’t
do
what
you
like
?
”
“
That’s
just
it
,
”
she
snaps
out
;
“
you
can’t
.
It
would
not
be
doing
the
straight
thing
by
the
family
.
No
,
”
she
says
,
“
I’ve
spent
their
money
,
and
I’m
spending
it
now
.
They
don’t
love
me
,
but
they
shan’t
say
as
I
have
disgraced
them
.
They’ve
got
their
feelings
same
as
I’ve
got
mine
.
”
“
Why
not
chuck
the
money
?
”
I
says
.
“
They’ll
be
glad
enough
to
get
it
back
,
”
they
being
a
poor
lot
,
as
I
heard
her
say
.
“
How
can
I
?
”
she
says
.
“
It’s
a
life
interest
.
As
long
as
I
live
I’ve
got
to
have
it
,
and
as
long
as
I
live
I’ve
got
to
remain
the
Marchioness
of
Appleford
.
”
She
finishes
her
soup
,
and
pushes
the
plate
away
from
her
.
“
As
long
as
I
live
,
”
she
says
,
talking
to
herself
.
“
By
Jove
!
”
she
says
,
starting
up
“
why
not
?
”
“
Why
not
what
?
”
I
says
.
“
Nothing
,
”
she
answers
.
“
Get
me
an
African
telegraph
form
,
and
be
quick
about
it
!
”
I
fetched
it
for
her
,
and
she
wrote
it
and
gave
it
to
the
porter
then
and
there
;
and
,
that
done
,
she
sat
down
and
finished
her
dinner
.
She
was
a
bit
short
with
me
after
that
;
so
I
judged
it
best
to
keep
my
own
place
.
In
the
morning
she
got
an
answer
that
seemed
to
excite
her
,
and
that
afternoon
she
left
;
and
the
next
I
heard
of
her
was
a
paragraph
in
the
newspaper
,
headed
—
“
Death
of
the
Marchioness
of
Appleford
.
Sad
accident
.
”
It
seemed
she
had
gone
for
a
row
on
one
of
the
Italian
lakes
with
no
one
but
a
boatman
.
A
squall
had
come
on
,
and
the
boat
had
capsized
.
The
boatman
had
swum
ashore
,
but
he
had
been
unable
to
save
his
passenger
,
and
her
body
had
never
been
recovered
.
The
paper
reminded
its
readers
that
she
had
formerly
been
the
celebrated
tragic
actress
,
Caroline
Trevelyan
,
daughter
of
the
well-known
Indian
judge
of
that
name
.
It
gave
me
the
blues
for
a
day
or
two
—
that
bit
of
news
.
I
had
known
her
from
a
baby
as
you
might
say
,
and
had
taken
an
interest
in
her
.
You
can
call
it
silly
,
but
hotels
and
restaurants
seemed
to
me
less
interesting
now
there
was
no
chance
of
ever
seeing
her
come
into
one
again
.
I
went
from
Paris
to
one
of
the
smaller
hotels
in
Venice
.
The
missis
thought
I’d
do
well
to
pick
up
a
bit
of
Italian
,
and
perhaps
she
fancied
Venice
for
herself
.
That’s
one
of
the
advantages
of
our
profession
.
You
can
go
about
.
It
was
a
second-rate
sort
of
place
,
and
one
evening
,
just
before
lighting-up
time
,
I
had
the
salle-à-manger
all
to
myself
,
and
had
just
taken
up
a
paper
when
I
hears
the
door
open
,
and
I
turns
round
.
I
saw
“
her
”
coming
down
the
room
.
There
was
no
mistaking
her
.
She
wasn’t
that
sort
.
I
sat
with
my
eyes
coming
out
of
my
head
till
she
was
close
to
me
,
and
then
I
says
:
“
Carrots
!
”
I
says
,
in
a
whisper
like
.
That
was
the
name
that
come
to
me
.
“
‘Carrots’
it
is
,
”
she
says
,
and
down
she
sits
just
opposite
to
me
,
and
then
she
laughs
.
I
could
not
speak
,
I
could
not
move
,
I
was
that
took
aback
,
and
the
more
frightened
I
looked
the
more
she
laughed
till
“
Kipper
”
comes
into
the
room
.
There
was
nothing
ghostly
about
him
.
I
never
see
a
man
look
more
as
if
he
had
backed
the
winner
.
“
Why
,
it’s
’Enery
,
”
he
says
;
and
he
gives
me
a
slap
on
the
back
,
as
knocks
the
life
into
me
again
.
“
I
heard
you
was
dead
,
”
I
says
,
still
staring
at
her
.
“
I
read
it
in
the
paper
—
‘death
of
the
Marchioness
of
Appleford.’
”
“
That’s
all
right
,
”
she
says
.
“
The
Marchioness
of
Appleford
is
as
dead
as
a
door-nail
,
and
a
good
job
too
.
Mrs.
Captain
Kit’s
my
name
,
née
‘Carrots.’
”
“
You
said
as
’ow
I’d
find
someone
to
suit
me
’fore
long
,
”
says
“
Kipper
”
to
me
,
“
and
,
by
Jove
!
you
were
right
;
I
’ave
.
I
was
waiting
till
I
found
something
equal
to
her
ladyship
,
and
I’d
’ave
’ad
to
wait
a
long
time
,
I’m
thinking
,
if
I
’adn’t
come
across
this
one
’ere
”
;
and
he
tucks
her
up
under
his
arm
just
as
I
remember
his
doing
that
day
he
first
brought
her
into
the
coffee-shop
,
and
Lord
,
what
a
long
time
ago
that
was
!
*
*
*
*
*
That
is
the
story
,
among
others
,
told
me
by
Henry
,
the
waiter
.
I
have
,
at
his
request
,
substituted
artificial
names
for
real
ones
.
For
Henry
tells
me
that
at
Capetown
Captain
Kit’s
First-class
Family
and
Commercial
Hotel
still
runs
,
and
that
the
landlady
is
still
a
beautiful
woman
with
fine
eyes
and
red
hair
,
who
might
almost
be
taken
for
a
duchess
—
until
she
opens
her
mouth
,
when
her
accent
is
found
to
be
still
slightly
reminiscent
of
the
Mile-End
Road
.
THE
USES
AND
ABUSES
OF
JOSEPH
.
“
It
is
just
the
same
with
what
you
may
call
the
human
joints
,
”
observed
Henry
.
He
was
in
one
of
his
philosophic
moods
that
evening
.
“
It
all
depends
upon
the
cooking
.
I
never
see
a
youngster
hanging
up
in
the
refrigerator
,
as
one
may
put
it
,
but
I
says
to
myself
:
‘Now
I
wonder
what
the
cook
is
going
to
make
of
you
!
Will
you
be
minced
and
devilled
and
fricasseed
till
you
are
all
sauce
and
no
meat
?
Will
you
be
hammered
tender
and
grilled
over
a
slow
fire
till
you
are
a
blessing
to
mankind
?
Or
will
you
be
spoilt
in
the
boiling
,
and
come
out
a
stringy
rag
,
an
immediate
curse
,
and
a
permanent
injury
to
those
who
have
got
to
swallow
you
?
’
“
There
was
a
youngster
I
knew
in
my
old
coffee-shop
days
,
”
continued
Henry
,
“
that
in
the
end
came
to
be
eaten
by
cannibals
.
At
least
,
so
the
newspapers
said
.
Speaking
for
myself
,
I
never
believed
the
report
:
he
wasn’t
that
sort
.
If
anybody
was
eaten
,
it
was
more
likely
the
cannibal
.
But
that
is
neither
here
nor
there
.
What
I
am
thinking
of
is
what
happened
before
he
and
the
cannibals
ever
got
nigh
to
one
another
.
He
was
fourteen
when
I
first
set
eyes
on
him
—
Mile
End
fourteen
,
that
is
;
which
is
the
same
,
I
take
it
,
as
City
eighteen
and
West
End
five-and-twenty
—
and
he
was
smart
for
his
age
into
the
bargain
:
a
trifle
too
smart
as
a
matter
of
fact
.
He
always
came
into
the
shop
at
the
same
time
—
half-past
two
;
he
always
sat
in
the
seat
next
the
window
;
and
three
days
out
of
six
,
he
would
order
the
same
dinner
:
a
fourpenny
beef-steak
pudding
—
we
called
it
beef-steak
,
and
,
for
all
practical
purposes
,
it
was
beef-steak
—
a
penny
plate
of
potatoes
,
and
a
penny
slice
of
roly-poly
pudding
—
‘chest
expander’
was
the
name
our
customers
gave
it
—
to
follow
.
That
showed
sense
,
I
always
thought
,
that
dinner
alone
;
a
more
satisfying
menu
,
at
the
price
,
I
defy
any
human
being
to
work
out
.
He
always
had
a
book
with
him
,
and
he
generally
read
during
his
meal
;
which
is
not
a
bad
plan
if
you
don’t
want
to
think
too
much
about
what
you
are
eating
.
There
was
a
seedy
chap
,
I
remember
,
used
to
dine
at
a
cheap
restaurant
where
I
once
served
,
just
off
the
Euston
Road
.
He
would
stick
a
book
up
in
front
of
him
—
Eppy
something
or
other
—
and
read
the
whole
time
.
Our
four-course
shilling
table
d’hôte
with
Eppy
,
he
would
say
,
was
a
banquet
fit
for
a
prince
;
without
Eppy
he
was
of
opinion
that
a
policeman
wouldn’t
touch
it
.
But
he
was
one
of
those
men
that
report
things
for
the
newspapers
,
and
was
given
to
exaggeration
.
“
A
coffee-shop
becomes
a
bit
of
a
desert
towards
three
o’clock
;
and
,
after
a
while
,
young
Tidelman
,
for
that
was
his
name
,
got
to
putting
down
his
book
and
chatting
to
me
.
His
father
was
dead
;
which
,
judging
from
what
he
told
me
about
the
old
man
,
must
have
been
a
bit
of
luck
for
everybody
;
and
his
mother
,
it
turned
out
,
had
come
from
my
own
village
in
Suffolk
;
and
that
constituted
a
sort
of
bond
between
us
,
seeing
I
had
known
all
her
people
pretty
intimately
.
He
was
earning
good
money
at
a
dairy
,
where
his
work
was
scouring
milk-cans
;
and
his
Christian
name
—
which
was
the
only
thing
Christian
about
him
,
and
that
,
somehow
or
another
,
didn’t
seem
to
fit
him
—
was
Joseph
.
“
One
afternoon
he
came
into
the
shop
looking
as
if
he
had
lost
a
shilling
and
found
sixpence
,
as
the
saying
is
;
and
instead
of
drinking
water
as
usual
,
sent
the
girl
out
for
a
pint
of
ale
.
The
moment
it
came
he
drank
off
half
of
it
at
a
gulp
,
and
then
sat
staring
out
of
the
window
.
“
‘What’s
up
?
’
I
says
.
‘Got
the
shove
?
’
“
‘Yes
,
’
he
answers
;
‘but
,
as
it
happens
,
it’s
a
shove
up
.
I’ve
been
taken
off
the
yard
and
put
on
the
walk
,
with
a
rise
of
two
bob
a
week.’
Then
he
took
another
pull
at
the
beer
and
looked
more
savage
than
ever
.
“
‘Well
,
’
I
says
,
‘that
ain’t
the
sort
of
thing
to
be
humpy
about.’
“
‘Yes
it
is
,
’
he
snaps
back
;
‘it
means
that
if
I
don’t
take
precious
good
care
I’ll
drift
into
being
a
blooming
milkman
,
spending
my
life
yelling
“
Milk
ahoi
!
”
and
spooning
smutty-faced
servant-gals
across
area
railings.’
“
‘Oh
!
’
I
says
,
‘and
what
may
you
prefer
to
spoon
—
duchesses
?
’
“
‘Yes
,
’
he
answers
sulky-like
;
‘duchesses
are
right
enough
—
some
of
’em.’
“
‘So
are
servant-gals
,
’
I
says
,
‘some
of
’em
.
Your
hat’s
feeling
a
bit
small
for
you
this
morning
,
ain’t
it
?
’
“
‘Hat’s
all
right
,
’
says
he
;
‘it’s
the
world
as
I’m
complaining
of
—
beastly
place
;
there’s
nothing
to
do
in
it.’
“
‘Oh
!
’
I
says
;
‘some
of
us
find
there’s
a
bit
too
much.’
I’d
been
up
since
five
that
morning
myself
;
and
his
own
work
,
which
was
scouring
milk-cans
for
twelve
hours
a
day
,
didn’t
strike
me
as
suggesting
a
life
of
leisured
ease
.
“
‘I
don’t
mean
that
,
’
he
says
.
‘I
mean
things
worth
doing.’
“
‘Well
,
what
do
you
want
to
do
,
’
I
says
,
‘that
this
world
ain’t
big
enough
for
?
’
“
‘It
ain’t
the
size
of
it
,
’
he
says
;
‘it’s
the
dulness
of
it
.
Things
used
to
be
different
in
the
old
days.’
“
‘How
do
you
know
?
’
I
says
.
“
‘You
can
read
about
it
,
’
he
answers
.
“
‘Oh
,
’
I
says
,
‘and
what
do
they
know
about
it
—
these
gents
that
sit
down
and
write
about
it
for
their
living
!
You
show
me
a
book
cracking
up
the
old
times
,
writ
by
a
chap
as
lived
in
’em
,
and
I’ll
believe
you
.
Till
then
I’ll
stick
to
my
opinion
that
the
old
days
were
much
the
same
as
these
days
,
and
maybe
a
trifle
worse.’
“
‘From
a
Sunday
School
point
of
view
,
perhaps
yes
,
’
says
he
;
‘but
there’s
no
gainsaying
—
’
“
‘No
what
?
’
I
says
.
“
‘No
gainsaying
,
’
repeats
he
;
‘it’s
a
common
word
in
literatoor.’
“
‘Maybe
,
’
says
I
,
‘but
this
happens
to
be
“
The
Blue
Posts
Coffee
House
,
”
established
in
the
year
1863.
We
will
use
modern
English
here
,
if
you
don’t
mind.’
One
had
to
take
him
down
like
that
at
times
.
He
was
the
sort
of
boy
as
would
talk
poetry
to
you
if
you
weren’t
firm
with
him
.
“
‘Well
then
,
there’s
no
denying
the
fact
,
’
says
he
,
‘if
you
prefer
it
that
way
,
that
in
the
old
days
there
was
more
opportunity
for
adventure.’
“
‘What
about
Australia
?
’
says
I
.
“
‘Australia
!
’
retorts
he
;
‘what
would
I
do
there
?
Be
a
shepherd
,
like
you
see
in
the
picture
,
wear
ribbons
,
and
play
the
flute
?
’
“
‘There’s
not
much
of
that
sort
of
shepherding
over
there
,
’
says
I
,
‘unless
I’ve
been
deceived
;
but
if
Australia
ain’t
sufficiently
uncivilised
for
you
,
what
about
Africa
?
’
“
‘What’s
the
good
of
Africa
?
’
replies
he
;
‘you
don’t
read
advertisements
in
the
“
Clerkenwell
News
”
:
“
Young
men
wanted
as
explorers
.
”
I’d
drift
into
a
barber’s
shop
at
Cape
Town
more
likely
than
anything
else.’
“
‘What
about
the
gold
diggings
?
’
I
suggests
.
I
like
to
see
a
youngster
with
the
spirit
of
adventure
in
him
.
It
shows
grit
as
a
rule
.
“
‘Played
out
,
’
says
he
.
‘You
are
employed
by
a
company
,
wages
ten
dollars
a
week
,
and
a
pension
for
your
old
age
.
Everything’s
played
out
,
’
he
continues
.
‘Men
ain’t
wanted
nowadays
.
There’s
only
room
for
clerks
,
and
intelligent
artisans
,
and
shopboys.’
“
‘Go
for
a
soldier
,
’
says
I
;
‘there’s
excitement
for
you.’
“
‘That
would
have
been
all
right
,
’
says
he
,
‘in
the
days
when
there
was
real
fighting.’
“
‘There’s
a
good
bit
of
it
going
about
nowadays
,
’
I
says
.
‘We
are
generally
at
it
,
on
and
off
,
between
shouting
about
the
blessings
of
peace.’
“
‘Not
the
sort
of
fighting
I
mean
,
’
replies
he
;
‘I
want
to
do
something
myself
,
not
be
one
of
a
row.’
“
‘Well
,
’
I
says
,
‘I
give
you
up
.
You’ve
dropped
into
the
wrong
world
it
seems
to
me
.
We
don’t
seem
able
to
cater
for
you
here.’
“
‘I’ve
come
a
bit
too
late
,
’
he
answers
;
‘that’s
the
mistake
I’ve
made
.
Two
hundred
years
ago
there
were
lots
of
things
a
fellow
might
have
done.’
“
‘Yes
,
I
know
what’s
in
your
mind
,
’
I
says
:
‘pirates.’
“
‘Yes
,
pirates
would
be
all
right
,
’
says
he
;
‘they
got
plenty
of
sea-air
and
exercise
,
and
didn’t
need
to
join
a
blooming
funeral
club.’
“
‘You’ve
got
ideas
above
your
station
,
’
I
says
.
‘You
work
hard
,
and
one
day
you’ll
have
a
milk-shop
of
your
own
,
and
be
walking
out
with
a
pretty
housemaid
on
your
arm
,
feeling
as
if
you
were
the
Prince
of
Wales
himself.’
“
‘Stow
it
!
’
he
says
;
‘it
makes
me
shiver
for
fear
it
might
come
true
.
I’m
not
cut
out
for
a
respectable
cove
,
and
I
won’t
be
one
neither
,
if
I
can
help
it
!
’
“
‘What
do
you
mean
to
be
,
then
?
’
I
says
;
‘we’ve
all
got
to
be
something
,
until
we’re
stiff
’uns.’
“
‘Well
,
’
he
says
,
quite
cool-like
,
‘I
think
I
shall
be
a
burglar.’
“
I
dropped
into
the
seat
opposite
and
stared
at
him
.
If
any
other
lad
had
said
it
I
should
have
known
it
was
only
foolishness
,
but
he
was
just
the
sort
to
mean
it
.
“
‘It’s
the
only
calling
I
can
think
of
,
’
says
he
,
‘that
has
got
any
element
of
excitement
left
in
it.’
“
‘You
call
seven
years
at
Portland
“
excitement
,
”
do
you
?
’
says
I
,
thinking
of
the
argument
most
likely
to
tell
upon
him
.
“
‘What’s
the
difference
,
’
answers
he
,
‘between
Portland
and
the
ordinary
labouring
man’s
life
,
except
that
at
Portland
you
never
need
fear
being
out
of
work
?
’
He
was
a
rare
one
to
argue
.
‘Besides
,
’
says
he
,
‘it’s
only
the
fools
as
gets
copped
.
Look
at
that
diamond
robbery
in
Bond
Street
,
two
years
ago
.
Fifty
thousand
pounds’
worth
of
jewels
stolen
,
and
never
a
clue
to
this
day
!
Look
at
the
Dublin
Bank
robbery
,
’
says
he
,
his
eyes
all
alight
,
and
his
face
flushed
like
a
girl’s
.
‘Three
thousand
pounds
in
golden
sovereigns
walked
away
with
in
broad
daylight
,
and
never
so
much
as
the
flick
of
a
coat-tail
seen
.
Those
are
the
sort
of
men
I’m
thinking
of
,
not
the
bricklayer
out
of
work
,
who
smashes
a
window
and
gets
ten
years
for
breaking
open
a
cheesemonger’s
till
with
nine
and
fourpence
ha’penny
in
it.’
“
‘Yes
,
’
says
I
,
‘and
are
you
forgetting
the
chap
who
was
nabbed
at
Birmingham
only
last
week
?
He
wasn’t
exactly
an
amatoor
.
How
long
do
think
he’ll
get
?
’
“
‘A
man
like
that
deserves
what
he
gets
,
’
answers
he
;
‘couldn’t
hit
a
police-man
at
six
yards.’
“
‘You
bloodthirsty
young
scoundrel
,
’
I
says
;
‘do
you
mean
you
wouldn’t
stick
at
murder
?
’
“
‘It’s
all
in
the
game
,
’
says
he
,
not
in
the
least
put
out
.
‘I
take
my
risks
,
he
takes
his
.
It’s
no
more
murder
than
soldiering
is.’
“
‘It’s
taking
a
human
creature’s
life
,
’
I
says
.
“
‘Well
,
’
he
says
,
‘what
of
it
?
There’s
plenty
more
where
he
comes
from.’
“
I
tried
reasoning
with
him
from
time
to
time
,
but
he
wasn’t
a
sort
of
boy
to
be
moved
from
a
purpose
.
His
mother
was
the
only
argument
that
had
any
weight
with
him
.
I
believe
so
long
as
she
had
lived
he
would
have
kept
straight
;
that
was
the
only
soft
spot
in
him
.
But
unfortunately
she
died
a
couple
of
years
later
,
and
then
I
lost
sight
of
Joe
altogether
.
I
made
enquiries
,
but
no
one
could
tell
me
anything
.
He
had
just
disappeared
,
that’s
all
.
“
One
afternoon
,
four
years
later
,
I
was
sitting
in
the
coffee-room
of
a
City
restaurant
where
I
was
working
,
reading
the
account
of
a
clever
robbery
committed
the
day
before
.
The
thief
,
described
as
a
well-dressed
young
man
of
gentlemanly
appearance
,
wearing
a
short
black
beard
and
moustache
,
had
walked
into
a
branch
of
the
London
and
Westminster
Bank
during
the
dinner-hour
,
when
only
the
manager
and
one
clerk
were
there
.
He
had
gone
straight
through
to
the
manager’s
room
at
the
back
of
the
bank
,
taken
the
key
from
the
inside
of
the
door
,
and
before
the
man
could
get
round
his
desk
had
locked
him
in
.
The
clerk
,
with
a
knife
to
his
throat
,
had
then
been
persuaded
to
empty
all
the
loose
cash
in
the
bank
,
amounting
in
gold
and
notes
to
nearly
five
hundred
pounds
,
into
a
bag
which
the
thief
had
thoughtfully
brought
with
him
.
After
which
,
both
of
them
—
for
the
thief
seems
to
have
been
of
a
sociable
disposition
—
got
into
a
cab
which
was
waiting
outside
,
and
drove
away
.
They
drove
straight
to
the
City
:
the
clerk
,
with
a
knife
pricking
the
back
of
his
neck
all
the
time
,
finding
it
,
no
doubt
,
a
tiresome
ride
.
In
the
middle
of
Threadneedle
Street
,
the
gentlemanly
young
man
suddenly
stopped
the
cab
and
got
out
,
leaving
the
clerk
to
pay
the
cabman
.
“
Somehow
or
other
,
the
story
brought
back
Joseph
to
my
mind
.
I
seemed
to
see
him
as
that
well-dressed
gentlemanly
young
man
;
and
,
raising
my
eyes
from
the
paper
,
there
he
stood
before
me
.
He
had
scarcely
changed
at
all
since
I
last
saw
him
,
except
that
he
had
grown
better
looking
,
and
seemed
more
cheerful
.
He
nodded
to
me
as
though
we
had
parted
the
day
before
,
and
ordered
a
chop
and
a
small
hock
.
I
spread
a
fresh
serviette
for
him
,
and
asked
him
if
he
cared
to
see
the
paper
.
“
‘Anything
interesting
in
it
,
Henry
?
’
says
he
.
“
‘Rather
a
daring
robbery
committed
on
the
Westminster
Bank
yesterday
,
’
I
answers
.
“
‘Oh
,
ah
!
I
did
see
something
about
that
,
’
says
he
.
“
‘The
thief
was
described
as
a
well-dressed
young
man
of
gentlemanly
appearance
,
wearing
a
black
beard
and
moustache
,
’
says
I
.
“
He
laughs
pleasantly
.
“
‘That
will
make
it
awkward
for
nice
young
men
with
black
beards
and
moustaches
,
’
says
he
.
“
‘Yes
,
’
I
says
.
‘Fortunately
for
you
and
me
,
we’re
clean
shaved.’
“
I
felt
as
certain
he
was
the
man
as
though
I’d
seen
him
do
it
.
“
He
gives
me
a
sharp
glance
,
but
I
was
busy
with
the
cruets
,
and
he
had
to
make
what
he
chose
out
of
it
.
“
‘Yes
,
’
he
replies
,
‘as
you
say
,
it
was
a
daring
robbery
.
But
the
man
seems
to
have
got
away
all
right.’
“
I
could
see
he
was
dying
to
talk
to
somebody
about
it
.
“
‘He’s
all
right
to-day
,
’
says
I
;
‘but
the
police
ain’t
the
fools
they’re
reckoned
.
I’ve
noticed
they
generally
get
there
in
the
end.’
“
‘There’s
some
very
intelligent
men
among
them
,
’
says
he
:
‘no
question
of
it
.
I
shouldn’t
be
surprised
if
they
had
a
clue
!
’
“
‘No
,
’
I
says
,
‘no
more
should
I
;
though
no
doubt
he’s
telling
himself
there
never
was
such
a
clever
thief.’
“
‘Well
,
we
shall
see
,
’
says
he
.
“
‘That’s
about
it
,
’
says
I
.
“
We
talked
a
bit
about
old
acquaintances
and
other
things
,
and
then
,
having
finished
,
he
handed
me
a
sovereign
and
rose
to
go
.
“
‘Wait
a
minute
,
’
I
says
,
‘your
bill
comes
to
three-and-eight
.
Say
fourpence
for
the
waiter
;
that
leaves
sixteen
shillings
change
,
which
I’ll
ask
you
to
put
in
your
pocket.’
“
‘As
you
will
,
’
he
says
,
laughing
,
though
I
could
see
he
didn’t
like
it
.
“
‘And
one
other
thing
,
’
says
I
.
‘We’ve
been
sort
of
pals
,
and
it’s
not
my
business
to
talk
unless
I’m
spoken
to
.
But
I’m
a
married
man
,
’
I
says
,
‘and
I
don’t
consider
you
the
sort
worth
getting
into
trouble
for
.
If
I
never
see
you
,
I
know
nothing
about
you
.
Understand
?
’
“
He
took
my
tip
,
and
I
didn’t
see
him
again
at
that
restaurant
.
I
kept
my
eye
on
the
paper
,
but
the
Westminster
Bank
thief
was
never
discovered
,
and
success
,
no
doubt
,
gave
him
confidence
.
Anyhow
,
I
read
of
two
or
three
burglaries
that
winter
which
I
unhesitatingly
put
down
to
Mr.
Joseph
—
I
suppose
there’s
style
in
housebreaking
,
as
in
other
things
—
and
early
the
next
spring
an
exciting
bit
of
business
occurred
,
which
I
knew
to
be
his
work
by
the
description
of
the
man
.
“
He
had
broken
into
a
big
country
house
during
the
servants’
supper-hour
,
and
had
stuffed
his
pockets
with
jewels
.
One
of
the
guests
,
a
young
officer
,
coming
upstairs
,
interrupted
him
just
as
he
had
finished
.
Joseph
threatened
the
man
with
his
revolver
;
but
this
time
it
was
not
a
nervous
young
clerk
he
had
to
deal
with
.
The
man
sprang
at
him
,
and
a
desperate
struggle
followed
,
with
the
result
that
in
the
end
the
officer
was
left
with
a
bullet
in
his
leg
,
while
Joseph
jumped
clean
through
the
window
,
and
fell
thirty
feet
.
Cut
and
bleeding
,
if
not
broken
,
he
would
never
have
got
away
but
that
,
fortunately
for
him
,
a
tradesman’s
cart
happened
to
be
standing
at
the
servants’
entrance
.
Joe
was
in
it
,
and
off
like
a
flash
of
greased
lightning
.
How
he
managed
to
escape
,
with
all
the
country
in
an
uproar
,
I
can’t
tell
you
;
but
he
did
it
.
The
horse
and
cart
,
when
found
sixteen
miles
off
,
were
neither
worth
much
.
“
That
,
it
seems
,
sobered
him
down
for
a
bit
,
and
nobody
heard
any
more
of
him
till
nine
months
later
,
when
he
walked
into
the
Monico
,
where
I
was
then
working
,
and
held
out
his
hand
to
me
as
bold
as
brass
.
“
‘It’s
all
right
,
’
says
he
,
‘it’s
the
hand
of
an
honest
man.’
“
‘It’s
come
into
your
possession
very
recently
then
,
’
says
I
.
“
He
was
dressed
in
a
black
frock-coat
and
wore
whiskers
.
If
I
hadn’t
known
him
,
I
should
have
put
him
down
for
a
parson
out
of
work
.
“
He
laughs
.
‘I’ll
tell
you
all
about
it
,
’
he
says
.
“
‘Not
here
,
’
I
answers
,
‘because
I’m
too
busy
;
but
if
you
like
to
meet
me
this
evening
,
and
you’re
talking
straight
—
’
“
‘Straight
as
a
bullet
,
’
says
he
.
‘Come
and
have
a
bit
of
dinner
with
me
at
the
Craven
;
it’s
quiet
there
,
and
we
can
talk
.
I’ve
been
looking
for
you
for
the
last
week.’
“
Well
,
I
met
him
;
and
he
told
me
.
It
was
the
old
story
:
a
gal
was
at
the
bottom
of
it
.
He
had
broken
into
a
small
house
at
Hampstead
.
He
was
on
the
floor
,
packing
up
the
silver
,
when
the
door
opens
,
and
he
sees
a
gal
standing
there
.
She
held
a
candle
in
one
hand
and
a
revolver
in
the
other
.
“
‘Put
your
hands
up
above
your
head
,
’
says
she
.
“
‘I
looked
at
the
revolver
,
’
said
Joe
,
telling
me
;
‘it
was
about
eighteen
inches
off
my
nose
;
and
then
I
looked
at
the
gal
.
There’s
lots
of
’em
will
threaten
to
blow
your
brains
out
for
you
,
but
you’ve
only
got
to
look
at
’em
to
know
they
won’t
.
“
‘They
are
thinking
of
the
coroner’s
inquest
,
and
wondering
how
the
judge
will
sum
up
.
She
met
my
eyes
,
and
I
held
up
my
hands
.
If
I
hadn’t
I
wouldn’t
have
been
here
.
“
‘Now
you
go
in
front
,
’
says
she
to
Joe
,
and
he
went
.
She
laid
her
candle
down
in
the
hall
and
unbolted
the
front
door
.
“
‘What
are
you
going
to
do
?
’
says
Joe
,
‘call
the
police
?
Because
if
so
,
my
dear
,
I’ll
take
my
chance
of
that
revolver
being
loaded
and
of
your
pulling
the
trigger
in
time
.
It
will
be
a
more
dignified
ending.’
“
‘No
,
’
says
she
,
‘I
had
a
brother
that
got
seven
years
for
forgery
.
I
don’t
want
to
think
of
another
face
like
his
when
he
came
out
.
I’m
going
to
see
you
outside
my
master’s
house
,
and
that’s
all
I
care
about.’
“
She
went
down
the
garden-path
with
him
,
and
opened
the
gate
.
“
‘You
turn
round
,
’
says
