W. W. Jacobs

“ There was three foot o' mud in the dock at the time, and arter I 'ad got 'im out, he fainted in my arms.
Arter that I kept myself to myself. Say wot you like, a man's best friend is 'imself. There's nobody else'll do as much for 'im, or let 'im off easier when he makes a mistake. If I felt a bit lonely I used to open the wicket in the gate and sit there watching the road, and p'r'aps pass a word or two with the policeman. ”

“ I believe if a woman 'ad one hand off and only a finger and thumb left on the other, she'd carry 'er purse in it."
He knew a'most as much about wimmen as I do. When 'is fust wife died, she said 'er only wish was that she could take 'im with her, and she made 'im promise her faithful that 'e'd never marry agin. His second wife, arter a long illness, passed away while he was playing hymns on the concertina to her, and 'er mother, arter looking at 'er very hard, went to the doctor and said she wanted an inquest. ”

“ Then he'd get up and come for'ard two or three steps and sit down agin.
"Ain't you sitting down, Bill?" he ses, arter a time.
"No," I ses, "I'm not."
"I don't think you can expect to get the full benefit unless you do," he ses, coming up close to me and sitting down agin. "It's a bit of a shock at fust, but Halloa!"
"Wot's up?" I ses.
"Sitting on something hard," he ses. "I wish people 'ud be more careful."
He took a list to port and felt under the star-board side. Then he brought his 'and up and tried to wipe the mud off and see wot he 'ad got. ”

“ They both stood there looking at me with their mouths open, and then afore I knew wot he was up to, the policeman came close up to me and scratched my chest with his finger-nail.
"It's mud!" he ses.
"You keep your nails to yourself," I ses. "It's nothing to do with you." and I couldn't 'elp noticing the smell of it. Nobody could. And wot was worse than all was, that the tide 'ad turned and was creeping over the mud in the dock. ”