several more. They
lasted, in fact, until the day, a fortnight later, when he came in with
flushed face and sparkling eyes to announce that the strike was over and
the men victorious.

"Six bob a week more!" he said, with enthusiasm. "You see, I was right
to strike, after all."

Mrs. Porter eyed him. "I am out for four bob a week more," she said,
calmly.

Her husband swallowed. "You--you don't understand 'ow these things are
done," he said, at last. "It takes time. We ought to ne--negotiate."

"All right," said Mrs. Porter, readily. "Seven shillings a week, then."

"Let's say four and have done with it," exclaimed the other, hastily.

And Mrs. Porter said it.

DIRTY WORK

It was nearly high-water, and the night-watchman, who had stepped aboard
a lighter lying alongside the wharf to smoke a pipe, sat with half-closed
eyes enjoying the summer evening. The bustle of the day was over, the
wharves were deserted, and hardly a craft moved on the river. Perfumed
clouds of shag, hovering for a time over the lighter, floated lazily
towards the Surrey shore.

"There's one thing about my job," said the night-watchman, slowly, "it's
done all alone by yourself. There's no foreman a-hollering at you and
offering you a penny for your thoughts, and no mates to run into you from
behind with a loaded truck and then ask you why you didn't look where
you're going to. From six o'clock in the evening to six o'clock next
morning I'm my own master."

He rammed down the tobacco with an experienced forefinger and puffed
contentedly.

People like you 'ud find it lonely (he continued, after a pause); I did
at fust. I used to let people come and sit 'ere with me of an evening
talking, but I got tired of it arter a time, and when one chap fell
overboard while 'e was showing me 'ow he put his wife's mother in 'er
place, I gave it up altogether. 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. Then something 'appened one night
that made me take quite a dislike to it for a time.

I was sitting there with my feet outside, smoking a quiet pipe,