W. W. Jacobs

“ When I think of the evenings I've wasted over a fat old woman I feel——"
"That'll do," ses old Sam, very sharp; "that ain't the way to speak of a lady, even if she 'as said 'no.'"
"All right, Sam," ses Ginger. "You go in and win if you think you're so precious clever."
Old Sam said that that was wot 'e was going to do, and he spent so much time next morning making 'imself look pretty that the other two could 'ardly be civil to him.
He went off a'most direckly arter breakfast, and they didn't see 'im agin till twelve o'clock that night. ”

“ Finch. "Like a lion he is."
"A roaring lion," ses Ginger, looking at Sam. "He don't know wot fear is."
Sam began to smile, and Mrs. Finch looked at 'im so pleased that Peter Russet, who 'ad been looking at 'er and the room, and thinking much the same way as Ginger, began to think that they was on the wrong tack.
"Afore 'e got stout and old," he ses, shaking his 'ead, "there wasn't a smarter skipper afloat."
"We all 'ave our day," ses Ginger, shaking his 'ead too.
"I dessay he's good for another year or two afloat, yet," ses Peter Russet, considering. "With care," ses Ginger. ”

“ He answered 'em back pleasant when they spoke to 'im, and one night he lay in 'is bed whistling comic songs until Ginger and Peter Russet 'ad to get out o' bed to him. When he bought a new necktie and a smart cap and washed 'imself twice in one day they fust began to ask each other wot was up, and then they asked him.
"Up?" ses Sam; "nothing."
"He's in love," ses Peter Russet.
"You're a liar," ses Sam, without turning round.
"He'll 'ave it bad at 'is age," ses Ginger. ”

“ Mrs. Finch told 'im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter Russet could see 'ow pleased she was.
"Truth is truth," ses Ginger. "I'm a plain man, and I speak my mind."
"Blue is my fav'rit' colour," ses old Sam, in a tender voice. "True blue."
Peter Russet began to feel out of it. "I thought brown was," he ses.
"Ho!" ses Sam, turning on 'im; "and why?"
"I 'ad my reasons," ses Peter, nodding, and shutting 'is mouth very firm.
"I thought brown was 'is fav'rit colour too," ses Ginger. "I don't know why. It's no use asking me ”

“ Ginger Dick was the fust there next night, and took 'er a little chiney teapot he 'ad picked up dirt cheap because it was cracked right acrost the middle; but, as he explained that he 'ad dropped it in hurrying to see 'er, she was just as pleased. She stuck it up on the mantelpiece, and the things she said about Ginger's kindness and generosity made Peter Russet spend good money that he wanted for 'imself on a painted flower-pot next evening.
With three men all courting 'er at the same time Mrs. Finch had 'er hands full, but she took to it wonderful considering. ”

“ There's not many shore-going berths that a sailorman is fit for, and those that they are—such as a night-watchman's, for instance—wants such a good character that there's few as are to equal it.
Sometimes they get things to do ashore. I knew one man that took up butchering, and 'e did very well at it till the police took him up. Another man I knew gave up the sea to marry a washerwoman, and they hadn't been married six months afore she died, and back he 'ad to go to sea agin, pore chap. ”

“ Finch, wondering wot was the matter with old Sam.
"Blue," ses Ginger; "big blue eyes—they're the ones for me. Other people may 'ave their blacks and their browns," he ses, looking at Sam and Peter Russet, "but give me blue."
They went on like that all the evening, and every time the shop-bell went and the widow 'ad to go out to serve a customer they said in w'ispers wot they thought of each other; and once when she came back rather sudden Ginger 'ad to explain to 'er that 'e was showing Peter Russet a scratch on his knuckle. ”

“ They 'ad it all over agin next morning, and at last, as nobody would agree to keep quiet and let the others 'ave a fair chance, they made up their minds to let the best man win. Ginger Dick bought a necktie that took all the colour out o' Sam's, and Peter Russet went in for a collar so big that 'e was lost in it. ”

“ Ginger Dick looked round the room. It was a comfortable little place, with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs, and a row of pink vases on the mantelpiece. Then 'e looked at Mrs. Finch, and thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.
"This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty, troublesome sailormen to look arter, Captin Small," he ses.
"It's wonderful the way he manages 'em," ses Peter Russet to Mrs. ”