down below, and, arter they 'ad picked out as much
broken glass as Ted would let 'em, the second officer did 'im up in
sticking-plaster and told 'im to keep quiet for an hour or two.

Ted was very proud of 'is looks, and the way he went on was alarming.
Fust of all he found fault with the chap 'e was playing with, and then
he turned on the cook.

"It's a pity you didn't see _that_ in a dream," he ses, tryin' to sneer,
on'y the sticking-plaster was too strong for 'im.

"But I did see it," ses the cook, drawin' 'imself up.

"_Wot?_" ses Ted, starting.

"I dreamt it night afore last, just exactly as it 'appened," ses the
cook, in a offhand way.

"Why didn't you tell me, then?" ses Ted choking.

[Illustration: Why didn't you tell me, then 242]

"It 'ud ha' been no good," ses the cook, smiling and shaking his 'ead.
"Wot I see must 'appen. I on'y see the future, and that must be."

"But you stood there watching me chucking the bottle about," ses Ted,
getting out of 'is bunk. "Why didn't you stop me?"

"You don't understand," ses the cook. "If you'd 'ad more eddication--"

He didn't 'ave time to say any more afore Ted was on him, and cookie,
being no fighter, 'ad to cook with one eye for the next two or three
days. He kept quiet about 'is dreams for some time arter that, but it
was no good, because George Hall, wot was a firm believer, gave 'im a
licking for not warning 'im of a sprained ankle he got skylarking, and
Bob Law took it out of 'im for not telling 'im that he was going to lose
'is suit of shore-going togs at cards.

The only chap that seemed to show any good feeling for the cook was a
young feller named Joseph Meek, a steady young chap wot was goin' to be
married to old Bill Foster's niece as soon as we got 'ome. Nobody else
knew it, but he told the cook all about it on the quiet. He said she was
too good for 'im, but, do all he could, he couldn't get her to see it.
"My feelings 'ave changed," he ses.

"P'r'aps they'll change agin," ses the cook, trying to comfort 'im.

Joseph shook his 'ead. "No, I've made up my mind," he ses, very slow.
"I'm young yet, and, besides, I can't afford it; but 'ow to get out of
it I don't know. Couldn't you 'ave a dream agin it for me?"

"Wot d'ye mean?" ses the cook, firing up. "Do you think I make my dreams
up?"

"No, no; cert'inly not," ses Joseph, patting 'im on the shoulder; "but
couldn't you do it just for once? 'Ave a dream that me and Emily are
killed a few d