BOOK 12
ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM DRAWINGS BY WILL OWEN
"MANNERS MAKYTH MAN"
The night-watchman appeared to be out of sorts. His movements were evenslower than usual, and, when he sat, the soap-box seemed to be unable togive satisfaction. His face bore an expression of deep melancholy, but asmouldering gleam in his eye betokened feelings deeply moved.
"Play-acting I don't hold with," he burst out, with sudden ferocity."Never did. I don't say I ain't been to a theayter once or twice in mylife, but I always come away with the idea that anybody could act if theyliked to try. It's a kid's game, a silly kid's game, dressing up andpretending to be somebody else."
He cut off a piece of tobacco and, stowing it in his left cheek, satchewing, with his lack-lustre eyes fixed on the wharves across the river.The offensive antics of a lighterman in mid-stream, who nearly felloverboard in his efforts to attract his attention, he ignored.
"I might ha' known it, too," he said, after a long silence. "If I'd onlystopped to think, instead o' being in such a hurry to do good to others,I should ha' been all right, and the pack o' monkey-faced swabs on theLizzie and Annie wot calls themselves sailor-men would 'ave had to 'avegot something else to laugh about. They've told it in every pub for 'arfa mile round, and last night, when I went into the Town of Margate to geta drink, three chaps climbed over the partition to 'ave a look at me.
"It all began with young Ted Sawyer, the mate o' the Lizzie and Annie.He calls himself a mate, but if it wasn't for 'aving the skipper for abrother-in-law 'e'd be called something else, very quick. Two or threetimes we've 'ad words over one thing and another, and the last time Icalled 'im something that I can see now was a mistake. It was one o'these 'ere clever things that a man don't forget, let alone a lop-sidedmonkey like 'im.
"That was when they was up time afore last, and when they made fast 'erelast week I could see as he 'adn't forgotten it. For one thing hepretended not to see me, and, arter I 'ad told him wot I'd do to him if'e ran into me agin, he said 'e thought I was a sack o' potatoes taking aairing on a pair of legs wot somebody 'ad throwed away. Nasty tongue'e's got; not clever, but nasty.
"Arter that I took no notice of 'im, and, o' course, that annoyed 'immore than anything. All I could do I done, and 'e was ringing thegate-bell that night