Every sailorman grumbles about the sea, said the night-watchman, thoughtfully. It’s human nature to grumble, and I s’pose they keep on grumbling and sticking to it because there ain’t much else they can do. There’s not many shore-going berths that a sailorman is fit for, and those that they are–such as a night-watchman’s, for instance–wants […]

Mr. Bob Grummit sat in the kitchen with his corduroy-clad legs stretched on the fender. His wife’s half-eaten dinner was getting cold on the table; Mr. Grummit, who was badly in need of cheering up, emptied her half-empty glass of beer and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Come away, I tell […]

N.B.–Having regard to the eccentricities of the Law of Libel it must be distinctly understood that the following does not refer to the distinguished officer, Lieut. Troup Horne, of the Inns of Court. Anybody trying to cause mischief between a civilian of eight stone and a soldier of seventeen by a statement to the contrary […]

“GRATITOODE!” said the night-watchman, with a hard laugh. “Hmf! Don’t talk to me about gratitoode; I’ve seen too much of it. If people wot I’ve helped in my time ‘ad only done arf their dooty–arf, mind you–I should be riding in my carriage.” Forgetful of the limitations of soap-boxes he attempted to illustrate his remark […]

Mr. George Henshaw let himself in at the front door, and stood for some time wiping his boots on the mat. The little house was ominously still, and a faint feeling, only partially due to the lapse of time since breakfast, manifested itself behind his waistcoat. He coughed—a matter- of-fact cough—and, with an attempt to […]

Mr. William Jobling leaned against his door-post, smoking. The evening air, pleasant in its coolness after the heat of the day, caressed his shirt-sleeved arms. Children played noisily in the long, dreary street, and an organ sounded faintly in the distance. To Mr. Jobling, who had just consumed three herrings and a pint and a […]

"If you hadn’t asked me," said the night watchman, "I should never havetold you; but, seeing as you’ve put the question point blank, I willtell you my experience of it. You’re the first person I’ve ever openedmy lips to upon the subject, for it was so eggstraordinary that all ourchaps swore as they’d keep it […]

I WITHOUT, the night was cold and wet, but in the small parlour of Laburnam Villa the blinds were drawn and the fire burned brightly. Father and son were at chess, the former, who possessed ideas about the game involving radical changes, putting his king into such sharp and unnecessary perils that it even provoked […]

Sailormen are not good ‘ands at saving money as a rule, said the night-watchman, as he wistfully toyed with a bad shilling on his watch-chain, though to ‘ear ’em talk of saving when they’re at sea and there isn’t a pub within a thousand miles of ’em, you might think different. It ain’t for the […]

It was a calm, clear evening in late summer as the Elizabeth Ann, of Pembray, scorning the expensive aid of a tug, threaded her way down theLondon river under canvas. The crew were busy forward, and the masterand part-owner—a fussy little man, deeply imbued with a sense of hisown importance and cleverness—was at the wheel […]

It wanted a few nights to Christmas, a festival for which the small market-town of Torchesterwas making extensive preparations. The narrow streets which had been thronged with peoplewere now almost deserted; the cheap-jack from London, with the remnant of breath left him afterhis evening’s exertions, was making feeble attempts to blow out his naphtha lamp, […]

The oldest inhabitant of Claybury sat beneath the sign of the “Cauliflower” and gazed with affectionate, but dim, old eyes in the direction of the village street. “No; Claybury men ain’t never been much of ones for emigrating,” he said, turning to the youthful traveller who was resting in the shade with a mug of […]

Illness? said the night watchman, slowly. Yes, sailormen get ill sometimes, but not ‘aving the time for it that other people have, and there being no doctors at sea, they soon pick up agin. Ashore, if a man’s ill he goes to a horse-pittle and ‘as a nice nurse to wait on ‘im; at sea […]

I The last of the funeral guests had gone and Spencer Goddard, in decent black, sat alone in his small, well-furnished study. There was a queer sense of freedom in the house since the coffin had left it; the coffin which was now hidden in its solitary grave beneath the yellow earth. The air, which […]