Odd Craft, Complete. William Wymark Jacobs

don’t want to be ‘arsh with you, but I’m going back to bed, and if I ‘ave to get up and dress agin you’ll wish yourselves dead.”

      He went back to bed agin, and Peter, taking no notice of Ginger Dick, who kept calling ‘im a coward, got into bed alongside of Ginger and fell fast asleep.

      They all ‘ad breakfast in a coffee-shop next morning, and arter it was over Ginger, who ‘adn’t spoke a word till then, said that ‘e and Peter Russet wanted a little money to go on with. He said they preferred to get their meals alone, as Isaac’s face took their appetite away.

      “Very good,” ses the old man. “I don’t want to force my company on nobody,” and after thinking ‘ard for a minute or two he put ‘is ‘and in ‘is trouser-pocket and gave them eighteen-pence each.

      “That’s your day’s allowance,” ses Isaac, “and it’s plenty. There’s ninepence for your dinner, fourpence for your tea, and twopence for a crust o’ bread and cheese for supper. And if you must go and drown yourselves in beer, that leaves threepence each to go and do it with.”

      Ginger tried to speak to ‘im, but ‘is feelings was too much for ‘im, and ‘e couldn’t. Then Peter Russet swallered something ‘e was going to say and asked old Isaac very perlite to make it a quid for ‘im because he was going down to Colchester to see ‘is mother, and ‘e didn’t want to go empty-’anded.

      “You’re a good son, Peter,” ses old Isaac, “and I wish there was more like you. I’ll come down with you, if you like; I’ve got nothing to do.”

      Peter said it was very kind of ‘im, but ‘e’d sooner go alone, owing to his mother being very shy afore strangers.

      “Well, I’ll come down to the station and take a ticket for you,” ses Isaac.

      Then Peter lost ‘is temper altogether, and banged ‘is fist on the table and smashed ‘arf the crockery. He asked Isaac whether ‘e thought ‘im and Ginger Dick was a couple o’ children, and ‘e said if ‘e didn’t give ‘em all their money right away ‘e’d give ‘im in charge to the first policeman they met.

      “I’m afraid you didn’t intend for to go and see your mother, Peter,” ses the old man.

      “Look ‘ere,” ses Peter, “are you going to give us that money?”

      “Not if you went down on your bended knees,” ses the old man.

      “Very good,” says Peter, getting up and walking outside; “then come along o’ me to find a police-man.”

      “I’m agreeable,” ses Isaac, “but I’ve got the paper you signed.”

      Peter said ‘e didn’t care twopence if ‘e’d got fifty papers, and they walked along looking for a police-man, which was a very unusual thing for them to do.

      “I ‘ope for your sakes it won’t be the same police-man that you and Ginger Dick set on in Gun Alley the night afore you shipped on the Planet,” ses Isaac, pursing up ‘is lips.

      “‘Tain’t likely to be,” ses Peter, beginning to wish ‘e ‘adn’t been so free with ‘is tongue.

      “Still, if I tell ‘im, I dessay he’ll soon find ‘im,” ses Isaac; “there’s one coming along now, Peter; shall I stop ‘im?”

      Peter Russet looked at ‘im and then he looked at Ginger, and they walked by grinding their teeth. They stuck to Isaac all day, trying to get their money out of ‘im, and the names they called ‘im was a surprise even to themselves. And at night they turned the room topsy-turvy agin looking for their money and ‘ad more unpleasantness when they wanted Isaac to get up and let ‘em search the bed.

      They ‘ad breakfast together agin next morning and Ginger tried another tack. He spoke quite nice to Isaac, and ‘ad three large cups o’ tea to show ‘im ‘ow ‘e was beginning to like it, and when the old man gave ‘em their eighteen-pences ‘e smiled and said ‘e’d like a few shillings extra that day.

      “It’ll be all right, Isaac,” he ses. “I wouldn’t ‘ave a drink if you asked me to. Don’t seem to care for it now. I was saying so to you on’y last night, wasn’t I, Peter?”

      “You was,” ses Peter; “so was I.”

      “Then I’ve done you good, Ginger,” ses Isaac, clapping ‘im on the back.

      “You ‘ave,” ses Ginger, speaking between his teeth, “and I thank you for it. I don’t want drink; but I thought o’ going to a music-’all this evening.”

      “Going to wot?” ses old Isaac, drawing ‘imself up and looking very shocked.

      “A music-’all,” ses Ginger, trying to keep ‘is temper.

      “A music-’all,” ses Isaac; “why, it’s worse than a pub, Ginger. I should be a very poor friend o’ yours if I let you go there—I couldn’t think of it.”

      “Wot’s it got to do with you, you gray-whiskered serpent?” screams Ginger, arf mad with rage. “Why don’t you leave us alone? Why don’t you mind your own business? It’s our money.”

      Isaac tried to talk to ‘im, but ‘e wouldn’t listen, and he made such a fuss that at last the coffee-shop keeper told ‘im to go outside. Peter follered ‘im out, and being very upset they went and spent their day’s allowance in the first hour, and then they walked about the streets quarrelling as to the death they’d like old Isaac to ‘ave when ‘is time came.

      They went back to their lodgings at dinner-time; but there was no sign of the old man, and, being ‘ungry and thirsty, they took all their spare clothes to a pawnbroker and got enough money to go on with. Just to show their independence they went to two music-’ails, and with a sort of idea that they was doing Isaac a bad turn they spent every farthing afore they got ‘ome, and sat up in bed telling ‘im about the spree they’d ‘ad.

      At five o’clock in the morning Peter woke up and saw, to ‘is surprise, that Ginger Dick was dressed and carefully folding up old Isaac’s clothes. At first ‘e thought that Ginger ‘ad gone mad, taking care of the old man’s things like that, but afore ‘e could speak Ginger noticed that ‘e was awake, and stepped over to ‘im and whispered to ‘im to dress without making a noise. Peter did as ‘e was told, and, more puzzled than ever, saw Ginger make up all the old man’s clothes in a bundle and creep out of the room on tiptoe.

      “Going to ‘ide ‘is clothes?” ‘e ses.

      “Yes,” ses Ginger, leading the way downstairs; “in a pawnshop. We’ll make the old man pay for to-day’s amusements.”

      Then Peter see the joke and ‘e begun to laugh so ‘ard that Ginger ‘ad to threaten to knock ‘is head off to quiet ‘im. Ginger laughed ‘imself when they got outside, and at last, arter walking about till the shops opened, they got into a pawnbroker’s and put old Isaac’s clothes up for fifteen shillings.

      First thing they did was to ‘ave a good breakfast, and after that they came out smiling all over and began to spend a ‘appy day. Ginger was in tip-top spirits and so was Peter, and the idea that old Isaac was in bed while they was drinking ‘is clothes pleased them more than anything. Twice that evening policemen spoke to Ginger for dancing on the pavement, and by the time the money was spent it took Peter all ‘is time to get ‘im ‘ome.

      Old Isaac was in bed when they got there, and the temper ‘e was in was shocking; but Ginger sat on ‘is bed and smiled at ‘im as if ‘e was saying compliments to ‘im.

      “Where’s my clothes?” ses the old man, shaking ‘is fist at the two of ‘em.

      Ginger smiled at ‘im; then ‘e shut ‘is eyes and dropped off to sleep.

      “Where’s my clothes?” ses Isaac, turning to Peter. “Closhe?” ses Peter, staring at ‘im.

      “Where are they?” ses Isaac.

      It was a long time afore Peter could understand wot ‘e meant, but as soon