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“And wot about your figger?” I ses, looking at ‘im.

“A cushion,” he ses, winking, “or maybe a couple. And what about clothes? You’ll ‘ave to sell me those you’ve got on. Hat and all. And boots.”

I put a price on ’em that I thought would ‘ave finished ‘im then and there, but it didn’t. And at last, arter paying me so many more compliments that they began to get into my ‘ead, he fixed up a meeting for the next night and went off.

“And mind,” he ses, coming back, “not a word to a living soul!”

He went off agin, and, arter going to the Bull’s Head and ‘aving a pint to clear my ‘ead, I went and sat down in the office and thought it over. It seemed all right to me as far as I could see; but p’r’aps the pint didn’t clear my ‘ead enough–p’r’aps I ought to ‘ave ‘ad two pints.

I lay awake best part of next day thinking it over, and when I got up I ‘ad made up my mind. I put my clothes in a sack, and then I put on some others as much like ’em as possible, on’y p’r’aps a bit older, in case the missis should get asking questions; and then I sat wondering ‘ow to get out with the sack without ‘er noticing it. She’s got a very inquiring mind, and I wasn’t going to tell her any lies about it. Besides which I couldn’t think of one.

I got out at last by playing a game on her. I pertended to drop ‘arf a dollar in the washus, and while she was busy on ‘er hands and knees I went off as comfortable as you please.

I got into the office with it all right, and, just as it was getting dark, a cab drove up to the wharf and the actor-chap jumped out with a big leather bag. I took ‘im into the private office, and ‘e was so ready with ‘is money for the clothes that I offered to throw the sack in.

He changed into my clothes fust of all, and then, asking me to sit down in front of ‘im, he took a looking-glass and a box out of ‘is bag and began to alter ‘is face. Wot with sticks of coloured paint, and false eyebrows, and a beard stuck on with gum and trimmed with a pair o’ scissors, it was more like a conjuring trick than anything else. Then ‘e took a wig out of ‘is bag and pressed it on his ‘ead, put on the cap, put some black stuff on ‘is teeth, and there he was. We both looked into the glass together while ‘e gave the finishing touches, and then he clapped me on the back and said I was the handsomest sailorman in England.

“I shall have to make up a bit ‘eavier when I’m behind the floats,” he ses; “but this is enough for ‘ere. Wot do you think of the imitation of your voice? I think I’ve got it exact.”

“If you ask me,” I ses, “it sounds like a poll-parrot with a cold in the ‘ead.”

“And now for your walk,” he ses, looking as pleased as if I’d said something else. “Come to the door and see me go up the wharf.”

I didn’t like to hurt ‘is feelings, but I thought I should ha’ bust. He walked up that wharf like a dancing-bear in a pair of trousers too tight for it, but ‘e was so pleased with ‘imself that I didn’t like to tell ‘im so. He went up and down two or three times, and I never saw anything so ridikerlous in my life.

“That’s all very well for us,” he ses; “but wot about other people? That’s wot I want to know. I’ll go and ‘ave a drink, and see whether anybody spots me.”

Afore I could stop ‘im he started off to the Bull’s Head and went in, while I stood outside and watched ‘im.