W. W. Jacobs
ODD CRAFT
W. W. Jacobs(William Wymark Jacobs) (8 September 1863 – 1 September 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. Although much of his work was humorous, he is most famous for a frightening ghost story, "The Monkey's Paw".
THE MONEY-BOX
Sailormen are not good ’ands at saving money as a rule, said the
night-watchman, as he wistfully toyed with a bad shilling on his
watch-chain, though to ’ear ’em talk of saving when they’re at sea and
there isn’t a pub within a thousand miles of ’em, you might think
different.
It ain’t for the want of trying either with some of ’em, and I’ve known
men do all sorts o’ things as soon as they was paid off, with a view to
saving. I knew one man as used to keep all but a shilling or two in a
belt next to ’is skin so that he couldn’t get at it easy, but it was all
no good. He was always running short in the most inconvenient places.
I’ve seen ’im wriggle for five minutes right off, with a tramcar
conductor standing over ’im and the other people in the tram reading
their papers with one eye and watching him with the other.
Ginger Dick and Peter Russet—two men I’ve spoke of to you afore—tried to
save their money once. They’d got so sick and tired of spending it all
in p’r’aps a week or ten days arter coming ashore, and ’aving to go to
sea agin sooner than they ’ad intended, that they determined some way or
other to ’ave things different.
They was homeward bound on a steamer from Melbourne when they made their
minds up; and Isaac Lunn, the oldest fireman aboard—a very steady old
teetotaler—gave them a lot of good advice about it. They all wanted to
rejoin the ship when she sailed agin, and ’e offered to take a room
ashore with them and mind their money, giving ’em what ’e called a
moderate amount each day.
They would ha’ laughed at any other man, but they knew that old Isaac
was as honest as could be and that their money would be safe with ’im,
and at last, after a lot of palaver, they wrote out a paper saying as
they were willing for ’im to ’ave their money and give it to ’em bit by
bit, till they went to sea agin.
Anybody but Ginger Dick and Peter Russet or a fool would ha’ known
better than to do such a thing, but old Isaac ’ad got such a oily tongue
and seemed so fair-minded about wot ’e called moderate drinking that
they never thought wot they was letting themselves in for, and when they
took their pay—close on sixteen pounds each—they put the odd change in
their pockets and ’anded the rest over to him.
The first day they was as pleased as Punch. Old Isaac got a nice,
respectable bedroom for them all, and arter they’d ’ad a few drinks they
humoured ’im by ’aving a nice ’ot cup o’ tea, and then goin’ off with
’im to see a magic-lantern performance.
It was called "The Drunkard’s Downfall," and it begun with a young man
going into a nice-looking pub and being served by a nice-looking barmaid
with a glass of ale. Then it got on to ’arf pints and pints in the next
picture, and arter Ginger ’ad seen the lost young man put away six pints
in about ’arf a minute, ’e got such a raging thirst on ’im that ’e
couldn’t sit still, and ’e whispered to Peter Russet to go out with ’im.
"You’ll lose the best of it if you go now," ses old Isaac, in a whisper;
"in the next picture there’s little frogs and devils sitting on the edge
of the pot as ’e goes to drink."
"Ginger Dick got up and nodded to Peter."
"Arter that ’e kills ’is mother with a razor," ses old Isaac, pleading
with ’im and ’olding on to ’is coat.
THE MONEY-BOX
Sailormen are not good ’ands at saving money as a rule, said the
night-watchman, as he wistfully toyed with a bad shilling on his
watch-chain, though to ’ear ’em talk of saving when they’re at sea and
there isn’t a pub within a thousand miles of ’em, you might think
different.
It ain’t for the want of trying either with some of ’em, and I’ve known
men do all sorts o’ things as soon as they was paid off, with a view to
saving. I knew one man as used to keep all but a shilling or two in a
belt next to ’is skin so that he couldn’t get at it easy, but it was all
no good. He was always running short in the most inconvenient places.
I’ve seen ’im wriggle for five minutes right off, with a tramcar
conductor standing over ’im and the other people in the tram reading
their papers with one eye and watching him with the other.
Ginger Dick and Peter Russet—two men I’ve spoke of to you afore—tried to
save their money once. They’d got so sick and tired of spending it all
in p’r’aps a week or ten days arter coming ashore, and ’aving to go to
sea agin sooner than they ’ad intended, that they determined some way or
other to ’ave things different.
They was homeward bound on a steamer from Melbourne when they made their
minds up; and Isaac Lunn, the oldest fireman aboard—a very steady old
teetotaler—gave them a lot of good advice about it. They all wanted to
rejoin the ship when she sailed agin, and ’e offered to take a room
ashore with them and mind their money, giving ’em what ’e called a
moderate amount each day.
They would ha’ laughed at any other man, but they knew that old Isaac
was as honest as could be and that their money would be safe with ’im,
and at last, after a lot of palaver, they wrote out a paper saying as
they were willing for ’im to ’ave their money and give it to ’em bit by
bit, till they went to sea agin.
Anybody but Ginger Dick and Peter Russet or a fool would ha’ known
better than to do such a thing, but old Isaac ’ad got such a oily tongue
and seemed so fair-minded about wot ’e called moderate drinking that
they never thought wot they was letting themselves in for, and when they
took their pay—close on sixteen pounds each—they put the odd change in
their pockets and ’anded the rest over to him.
The first day they was as pleased as Punch. Old Isaac got a nice,
respectable bedroom for them all, and arter they’d ’ad a few drinks they
humoured ’im by ’aving a nice ’ot cup o’ tea, and then goin’ off with
’im to see a magic-lantern performance.
It was called "The Drunkard’s Downfall," and it begun with a young man
going into a nice-looking pub and being served by a nice-looking barmaid
with a glass of ale. Then it got on to ’arf pints and pints in the next
picture, and arter Ginger ’ad seen the lost young man put away six pints
in about ’arf a minute, ’e got such a raging thirst on ’im that ’e
couldn’t sit still, and ’e whispered to Peter Russet to go out with ’im.
"You’ll lose the best of it if you go now," ses old Isaac, in a whisper;
"in the next picture there’s little frogs and devils sitting on the edge
of the pot as ’e goes to drink."
"Ginger Dick got up and nodded to Peter."
"Arter that ’e kills ’is mother with a razor," ses old Isaac, pleading
with ’im and ’olding on to ’is coat.
Enjoy reading ODD CRAFT? You may also like these books
-
Jay W. Jacobs
The Widow Wave: A True Courtroom Drama of Tragedy at Sea
Paperback (Quid Pro, LLC Aug. 20, 2014) -
W. W. Jacobs
The Monkey's Paw and Other Stories
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform Nov. 18, 2016) -
J W Jacobs
The Adventures of Bobby O'Malley and Bandit: Trilogy
Paperback (Covenant Books April 2, 2019) -
W.W. Jacobs
The Lady of the Barge, Complete
Paperback (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform June 11, 2015) -
W. W. Jacobs
The Skipper's Wooing and The Brown Man's Servant
Hardcover (Pinnacle Press May 24, 2017)
