rds, a
young fellow didn't come down to the ship with the same letter and ask
for the skipper.

"Who gave it you?" ses the skipper, as soon as 'e could speak.

"A lady," ses the young fellow.

The skipper waved 'im away, and then 'e walked up and down the deck like
a man in a dream.

"Bad news?" I ses, looking up and catching 'is eye.

"No," he ses, "no. Only a note about a couple o' casks o' soda."

He stuffed the letter in 'is pocket and sat on the side smoking till his
wife came back in five minutes' time, smiling all over with good temper.

"It's a nice evening," she ses, "and I think I'll just run over to
Dalston and see my Cousin Joe."

The skipper got up like a lamb and said he'd go and clean 'imself.

"You needn't come if you feel tired," she ses, smiling at 'im.

The skipper could 'ardly believe his ears.

"I do feel tired," he ses. "I've had a heavy day, and I feel more like
bed than anything else."

"You turn in, then," she ses. "I'll be all right by myself."

She went down and tidied herself up--not that it made much difference to
'er--and, arter patting him on the arm and giving me a stare that would
ha' made most men blink, she took herself off.

I was pretty busy that evening. Wot with shifting lighters from under
the jetty and sweeping up, it was pretty near ha'-past seven afore I 'ad
a minute I could call my own. I put down the broom at last, and was
just thinking of stepping round to the Bull's Head for a 'arf-pint when
I see Cap'n Smithers come off the ship on to the wharf and walk to the
gate.

"I thought you was going to turn in?" I ses.

"I did think of it," he ses, "then I thought p'r'aps I'd better stroll
as far as Broad Street and meet my wife."

It was all I could do to keep a straight face. I'd a pretty good idea
where she 'ad gorn; and it wasn't Dalston.

"Come in and 'ave 'arf a pint fust," I ses.

"No; I shall be late," he ses, hurrying off.

I went in and 'ad a glass by myself, and stood there so long thinking of
Mrs. Smithers walking up and down by Cleopatra's Needle that at last the
landlord fust asked me wot I was laughing at, and then offered to make
me laugh the other side of my face. And then he wonders why people go
to the Albion.

I locked the gate rather earlier than usual that night. Sometimes if
I'm up that end I leave it a bit late, but I didn't want Mrs. Smithers
to come along and nip in without me seeing her face.

It was ten o'clock afore