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      Light Freights

      AN ODD FREAK

      Speaking o’ money,” said the night-watchman thoughtfully, as he selected an empty soapbox on the wharf for a seat, “the whole world would be different if we all ‘ad more of it. It would be a brighter and a ‘appier place for everybody.”

      He broke off to open a small brass tobacco-box and place a little quid of tobacco tenderly into a pouch in his left cheek, critically observing at the same time the efforts of a somewhat large steamer to get alongside the next wharf without blocking up more than three parts of the river. He watched it as though the entire operation depended upon his attention, and, the steamer fast, he turned his eyes back again and resumed his theme.

      “Of course it’s the being short that sharpens people,” he admitted thoughtfully; “the sharpest man I ever knew never ‘ad a ha’penny in ‘is pocket, and the ways ‘e had o’ getting other chaps to pay for ‘is beer would ha’ made ‘is fortin at the law if ‘e’d only ‘ad the eddication. Playful little chap ‘e was. I’ve seen men wot didn’t know ‘im stand ‘im a pot o’ beer and then foller ‘im up the road to see ‘im knock down a policeman as ‘e’d promised. They’d foller ‘im to the fust policeman ‘e met, an’ then ‘e’d point them out and say they were goin’ to half kill ‘im, an’ the policeman ‘ud just stroll up an’ ask ‘em wot they were ‘anging about for, but I never ‘eard of a chap telling ‘im. They used to go away struck all of a ‘eap. He died in the accident ward of the London Horse-pittle, poor chap.”

      He shook his head thoughtfully, and ignoring the statement of a watchman at the next wharf that it was a fine evening, shifted his quid and laughed rumblingly.

      “The funniest way o’ raising the wind I ever ‘eard of,” he said in explanation, “was one that ‘appened about fifteen years ago. I’d just taken my discharge as A.B. from the North Star, trading between here and the Australian ports, and the men wot the thing ‘appened to was shipmates o’ mine, although on’y firemen.

      “I knows it’s a true story, becos I was in it a little bit myself, and the other part I ‘ad from all of ‘em, and besides, they didn’t see anything funny in it at all, or anything out of the way. It seemed to them quite a easy way o’ making money, and I dessay if it ‘ad come off all right I should have thought so too.

      “In about a week arter we was paid off at the Albert Docks these chaps was all cleaned out, and they was all in despair, with a thirst wot wasn’t half quenched and a spree wot was on’y in a manner o’ speaking just begun, and at the end of that time they came round to a room wot I ‘ad, to see wot could be done. There was four of ‘em in all: old Sam Small, Ginger Dick, Peter Russet, and a orphan nevy of Sam’s whose father and mother was dead. The mother ‘ad been ‘alf nigger an’ ‘alf Malay when she was living, and Sam was always pertickler careful to point out that his nevy took arter ‘er. It was enough to make the pore woman turn in ‘er grave to say so, but Sam used to say that ‘e owed it to ‘is brother to explain.

      “‘Wot’s to be done?’ ses Peter Russet, arter they’d all said wot miserable chaps they was, an’ ‘ow badly sailor-men was paid. ‘We’re all going to sign on in the Land’s End, but she doesn’t sail for a fortnight; wot’s to be done in the meantime for to live?’

      “‘There’s your watch, Peter,’ ses old Sam, dreamy-like, ‘and there’s Ginger’s ring. It’s a good job you kep’ that ring, Ginger. We’re all in the same boat, mates, an’ I on’y wish as I’d got something for the general good. It’s ‘aving an orphan nevy wot’s kep’ me pore.’

      “‘Stow it,’ ses the nevy, short-like.

      “‘Everything’s agin us,’ ses old Sam. There’s them four green parrots I brought from Brazil, all dead.’

      “‘So are my two monkeys,’ ses Peter Russet, shaking ‘is ‘ead; ‘they used to sleep with me, too.’

      “They all shook their ‘eads then, and Russet took Sam up very sharp for saying that p’r’aps if he ‘adn’t slep’ with the monkeys they wouldn’t ha’ died. He said if Sam knew more about monkeys than wot ‘e did, why didn’t ‘e put ‘is money in them instead o’ green parrots wot pulled their feathers out and died of cold.

      “‘Talking about monkeys,’ ses Ginger Dick, interrupting old Sam suddenly, ‘wot about young Beauty here?’

      “‘Well, wot about him?’ ses the nevy, in a nasty sort o’ way.

      “‘W’y, ‘e’s worth forty monkeys an’ millions o’ green parrots,’ ses Ginger, starting up; ‘an’ here ‘e is a-wasting of ‘is opportunities, going about dressed like a Christian. Open your mouth, Beauty, and stick your tongue out and roll your eyes a bit.’

      “‘W’y not leave well alone, Ginger?’ ses Russet; and I thought so too. Young Beauty was quite enough for me without that.

      “‘Ter ‘blige me,’ ses Ginger, anxiously, ‘just make yourself as ugly as wot you can, Beauty.’

      “‘Leave ‘im alone,’ ses old Sam, as his nevy snarled at ‘em. ‘You ain’t everybody’s money yourself, Ginger.’

      “‘I tell you, mates,’ ses Ginger, speaking very slow and solemn, ‘there’s a fortin in ‘im. I was lookin’ at ‘im just now, trying to think who ‘e reminded me of. At fust I thought it was that big stuffed monkey we saw at Melbourne, then I suddenly remembered it was a wild man of Borneo I see when I was a kid up in Sunderland. When I say ‘e was a ‘andsome, good-’arted looking gentleman alongside o’ you, Beauty, do you begin to get my meaning?’

      “‘Wot’s the idea, Ginger?’ ses Sam, getting up to lend me and Russet a ‘and with ‘is nevy.

      “‘My idea is this,’ ses Ginger; ‘take ‘is cloes off ‘im and dress ‘im up in that there winder-blind, or something o’ the kind; tie ‘im up with a bit o’ line, and take ‘im round to Ted Reddish in the ‘Ighway and sell ‘im for a ‘undered quid as a wild man of Borneo.’

      “‘Wot?’ screams Beauty, in an awful voice. ‘Let go, Peter; let go, d’ye hear?’

      “‘’Old your noise, Beauty, while your elders is speaking,’ ses ‘is uncle, and I could see ‘e was struck with the idea.

      “‘You jest try dressing me up in a winder-blind,’ ses his nevy, half-crying with rage.

      “Listen to reason, Beauty,’ ses Ginger; ‘you’ll ‘ave your share of the tin; it’ll only be for a day or two, and then when we’ve cleared out you can make your escape, and there’ll be twenty-five pounds for each of us.’

      “‘’Ow do you make that out, Ginger?’ ses Sam, in a cold voice.

      “‘Fours into a ‘undered,’ ses Ginger.

      “‘Ho,’ ses Sam. ‘Ho, indeed. I wasn’t aweer that ‘e was your nevy, Ginger.’

      “‘Share and share alike.’ ses Russet. ‘It’s a very good plan o’ yours, Ginger.’

      “Ginger holds ‘is ‘ead up and looks at ‘im ‘ard.

      “‘I thought o’ the plan,’ ‘e ses, speaking very slow and deliberate. ‘Sam’s ‘is uncle, and ‘e’s the wild man. Threes into a ‘undered go—’

      “‘You needn’t bother your fat ‘ead adding up sums, Ginger,’ ses Russet, very polite. ‘I’m going to ‘ave my share; else I’ll split to Ted Reddish.’

      “None of ‘em said a word about me: two of ‘em was sitting on my bed; Ginger was using a ‘ankerchief o’ mine wot ‘e found in the fireplace, and Peter Russet ‘ad ‘ad a drink out o’ the jug on my washstand, and yet they never even mentioned me. That’s firemen all over, and that’s ‘ow it is they get themselves so disliked.

      “It took ‘em best part of an ‘our to talk round young Beauty, an’ the langwidge they see fit to use made me thankful to think that the parrots didn’t live to larn it.

      “You never saw anything like Beauty when they ‘ad finished with ‘im. If ‘e was bad in ‘is cloes, ‘e was a perfeck horror without ‘em. Ginger Dick faked ‘im up beautiful, but there was no pleasing ‘im. Fust he found fault with the winder-blind, which ‘e said didn’t fit; then ‘e grumbled about going bare-foot, then ‘e wanted somethink to ‘ide ‘is legs, which was natural considering the shape of ‘em. Ginger Dick nearly lost ‘is temper with ‘im,

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