fore they did ring, and if they 'ad
been selling muffins they couldn't ha' kept it up harder. And all the
time the umberella was doing rat-a-tat tats on the gate, while a voice--
much too loud for the potman's--started calling out: "Watch-man ahoy!"

"They're calling you, Bill," ses the skipper. "I ain't deaf," I ses,
very cold.

"Well, I wish I was," ses the skipper. "It's fair making my ear ache.
Why the blazes don't you do your dooty, and open the gate?"

"You mind your bisness and I'll mind mine," I ses. "I know wot I'm
doing. It's just some silly fools 'aving a game with me, and I'm not
going to encourage 'em."

"Game with you?" ses the skipper. "Ain't they got anything better than
that to play with? Look 'ere, if you don't open that gate, I will."

"It's nothing to do with you," I ses. "You look arter your ship and I'll
look arter my wharf. See? If you don't like the noise, go down in the
cabin and stick your 'ead in a biscuit-bag."

To my surprise he took the mate by the arm and went, and I was just
thinking wot a good thing it was to be a bit firm with people sometimes,
when they came back dressed up in their coats and bowler-hats and climbed
on to the wharf.

"Watchman!" ses the skipper, in a hoity-toity sort o' voice, "me and the
mate is going as far as Aldgate for a breath o' fresh air. Open the
gate."

I gave him a look that might ha' melted a 'art of stone, and all it done
to 'im was to make 'im laugh.

"Hurry up," he ses. "It a'most seems to me that there's somebody ringing
the bell, and you can let them in same time as you let us out. Is it the
bell, or is it my fancy, Joe?" he ses, turning to the mate.

They marched on in front of me with their noses cocked in the air, and
all the time the noise at the gate got worse and worse. So far as I
could make out, there was quite a crowd outside, and I stood there with
the key in the lock, trembling all over. Then I unlocked it very
careful, and put my hand on the skipper's arm.

"Nip out quick," I ses, in a whisper.

"I'm in no hurry," ses the skipper. "Here! Halloa, wot's up?"

It was like opening the door at a theatre, and the fust one through was
that woman, shoved behind by the potman. Arter 'im came a car-man, two
big 'ulking brewers' draymen, a little scrap of a woman with 'er bonnet
cocked over one eye, and a couple of dirty little boys.

"Wot is it?" ses the skipper, shutting the wicket behind 'em. "A
beanfeast?"

"