t back from a v'y'ge, and they 'adn't been ashore a week
afore both of 'em noticed a change for the worse in Ginger. He turned
quiet and peaceful and lost 'is taste for beer. He used to play with 'is
food instead of eating it, and in place of going out of an evening with
Sam and Peter took to going off by 'imself.

"It's love," ses Peter Russet, shaking his 'ead, "and he'll be worse
afore he's better."

"Who's the gal?" ses old Sam.

Peter didn't know, but when they came 'ome that night 'e asked. Ginger,
who was sitting up in bed with a far-off look in 'is eyes, cuddling 'is
knees, went on staring but didn't answer.

"Who is it making a fool of you this time, Ginger?" ses old Sam.

"You mind your bisness and I'll mind mine," ses Ginger, suddenly waking
up and looking very fierce.

"No offence, mate," ses Sam, winking at Peter. "I on'y asked in case I
might be able to do you a good turn."

"Well, you can do that by not letting her know you're a pal o' mine," ses
Ginger, very nasty.

Old Sam didn't understand at fust, and when Peter explained to 'im he
wanted to hit 'im for trying to twist Ginger's words about.

"She don't like fat old men," ses Ginger.

"Ho!" ses old Sam, who couldn't think of anything else to say. "Ho!
don't she? Ho! Ho! indeed!"

He undressed 'imself and got into the bed he shared with Peter, and kept
'im awake for hours by telling 'im in a loud voice about all the gals
he'd made love to in his life, and partikler about one gal that always
fainted dead away whenever she saw either a red-'aired man or a monkey.

Peter Russet found out all about it next day, and told Sam that it was a
barmaid with black 'air and eyes at the Jolly Pilots, and that she
wouldn't 'ave anything to say to Ginger.

He spoke to Ginger about it agin when they were going to bed that night,
and to 'is surprise found that he was quite civil. When 'e said that he
would do anything he could for 'im, Ginger was quite affected.

"I can't eat or drink," he ses, in a miserable voice; "I lay awake all
last night thinking of her. She's so diff'rent to other gals; she's
got--If I start on you, Sam Small, you'll know it. You go and make that
choking noise to them as likes it."

"It's a bit o' egg-shell I got in my throat at break-fast this morning,
Ginger," ses Sam. "I wonder whether she lays awake all night thinking of
you?"

"I dare say she does," ses Peter Russet, giving 'im a little push.

"Keep your 'art u