by W. W. Jacobs
ses, "Who'll give me a ha'penny for that?" he ses.
None of 'em seemed to be in a hurry. Bill Jones took it up and bit it,and rang it on the table and squinted at it, and then he bit it agin, andturned round and asked Joe Barlcomb wot was wrong with it.
"Wrong?" ses Joe; "nothing."
Bill Jones put it down agin. "You're wide awake, Joe," he ses, "but soam I."
"Won't nobody give me a ha'penny for it?" ses Joe, looking round.
Then Peter Lamb came up, and he looked at it and rang it, and at last hegave Joe a ha'penny for it and took it round, and everybody 'ad a look atit.
"He took it round, and everybody 'ad a look at it."]
"It stands to reason it's a bad 'un," ses Bill Jones, "but it's so welldone I wish as I'd bought it."
"H-s-h!" ses Peter Lamb; "don't let the landlord 'ear you."
The landlord 'ad just that moment come in, and Peter walked up andordered a pint, and took his ten-pence change as bold as brass. Arterthat Joe Barbcomb bought five more ha'pennies afore you could winka'most, and every man wot sold one went up to the bar and 'ad a pint andgot tenpence change, and drank Joe Barlcomb's health.
"There seems to be a lot o' money knocking about to-night," ses thelandlord, as Sam Martin, the last of 'em, was drinking 'is pint.
Sam Martin choked and put 'is pot down on the counter with a bang, andhim and the other five was out o' that door and sailing up the road withtheir tenpences afore the landlord could get his breath. He stood to thebar scratching his 'ead and staring, but he couldn't understand it a bittill a man wot was too late to sell his ha'penny up and told 'im allabout it. The fuss 'e made was terrible. The shillings was in a littleheap on a shelf at the back o' the bar, and he did all sorts o' things to'em to prove that they was bad, and threatened Joe Barlcomb with thepolice. At last, however, 'e saw wot a fool he was making of himself,and arter nearly breaking his teeth 'e dropped them into a drawer andstirred 'em up with the others.
Joe Barlcomb went round the next night to see Mrs. Prince, and she asked'im a lot o' questions about the men as 'ad sold 'im the ha'pennies.
"The fust part 'as been done very well," she ses, nodding her 'ead at'im; "if you do the second part as well, you'll soon know who your enemyis."
"Nothing'll bring the pig back," ses Joe.
"There's worse misfortunes than that, as I've told you," ses Mrs. Prince,sharply. "Now, listen to wot I'm going to say to you. When the clockstrikes twelve to-night----"
"Our clock don't strike," ses Joe.
"Then you must borrow one that does," ses Mrs. Prince, "and when itstrikes twelve you must go round to each o' them six men and sell them aha'penny for a shilling."
Joe Barlcomb looked at 'er. "'Ow?" he ses, short-like.
"Same way as you sold 'em a shilling for a ha'-penny," ses Mrs. Prince;"it don't matter whether they buy the ha'pennies or not. All you've gotto do is to go and ask 'em, and the man as makes the most fuss is the manthat 'as put the trouble on you."
"It seems a roundabout way o' going to work," ses Joe.
"_Wot!_" screams Mrs. Prince, jumping up and waving her arms about."_Wot!_ Go your own way; I'll have nothing more to do with you. Anddon't blame me for anything that happens. It's a very bad thing to cometo a witch for advice and then not to do as she tells you. You ought toknow that."
"I'll do it, ma'am," ses Joe Barlcomb, trembling.
"You'd better," ses Mrs. Prince; "and mind--not a word to anybody."
Joe promised her agin, and 'e went off and borrered a clock from AlbertPrice, and at twelve o'clock that night he jumped up out of bed and beganto dress 'imself and pretend not to 'ear his wife when she asked 'imwhere he was going.
It was a dark, nasty sort o' night, blowing and raining, and, o' course,everybody 'ad gone to bed long since. The fust cottage Joe came to wasBill Jones's, and, knowing Bill's temper, he stood for some time afore hecould make up 'is mind to knock; but at last he up with 'is stick andbanged away at the door.
A minute arterward he 'eard the bedroom winder pushed open, and then BillJones popped his 'cad out and called to know wot was the matter and whoit was.
"It's me--Joe Barlcomb," ses Joe, "and I want to speak to you verypartikler."
"Well, speak away," ses Bill. "You go into the back room," he ses,turning to his wife.
"Whaffor?" ses Mrs. Jones.
"'Cos I don't know wot Joe is going to say," ses Bill. "You go in now,afore I make you."
His wife went off grumbling, and then Bill told Joe Barlcomb to hurry upwot he'd got to say as 'e 'adn't got much on and the weather wasn't aswarm as it might be.
"I sold you a shilling for a ha'penny last night, Bill," ses Joe.
"Do you want to sell any more?" ses Bill Jones, putting his 'and down towhere 'is trouser pocket ought to be.
"Not exactly that," ses Joe Barlcomb. "This time I want you to sell me ashilling for a ha'penny."
Bill leaned out of the winder and stared down at Joe Barlcomb, and thenhe ses, in a choking voice, "Is that wot you've come disturbing my sleepfor at this time o' night?" he ses.
"I must 'ave it, Bill," ses Joe.
"Well, if you'll wait a moment," ses Bill, trying to speak perlitely,"I'll come down and give it to you."
Joe didn't like 'is tone of voice, but he waited, and all of a suddenBill Jones came out o' that door like a gun going off and threw 'imselfon Joe Barlcomb. Both of 'em was strong men, and by the time they'dfinished they was so tired they could 'ardly stand. Then Bill Jones wentback to bed, and Joe Barlcomb, arter sitting down on the doorstep to rest'imself, went off and knocked up Peter Lamb.
Peter Lamb was a little man and no good as a fighter, but the things hesaid to Joe Barlcomb as he leaned out o' the winder and shook 'is fist athim was 'arder to bear than blows. He screamed away at the top of 'isvoice for ten minutes, and then 'e pulled the winder to with a bang andwent back to bed.
Joe Barlcomb was very tired, but he walked on to Jasper Potts's 'ouse,trying 'ard as he walked to decide which o' the fust two 'ad made themost fuss. Arter he 'ad left Jasper Potts 'e got more puzzled than ever,Jasper being just as bad as the other two, and Joe leaving 'im at last inthe middle of loading 'is gun.
By the time he'd made 'is last call--at Sam Martin's--it was past threeo'clock, and he could no more tell Mrs. Prince which 'ad made the mostfuss than 'e could fly. There didn't seem to be a pin to choose between'em, and, 'arf worried out of 'is life, he went straight on to Mrs.Prince and knocked 'er up to tell 'er. She thought the 'ouse was afireat fust, and came screaming out o' the front door in 'er bedgown, andwhen she found out who it was she was worse to deal with than the men 'adbeen.
She 'ad quieted down by the time Joe went round to see 'er the nextevening, and asked 'im to describe exactly wot the six men 'ad done andsaid. She sat listening quite quiet at fust, but arter a time she scaredJoe by making a odd, croupy sort o' noise in 'er throat, and at last shegot up and walked into the back-place. She was there a long time makingfunny noises, and at last Joe walked toward the door on tip-toe andpeeped through the crack and saw 'er in a sort o' fit, sitting in a chairwith 'er arms folded acrost her bodice and rocking 'erself up and downand moaning. Joe stood as if 'e'd been frozen a'most, and then 'e creptback to 'is seat and waited, and when she came into the room agin shesaid as the trouble 'ad all been caused by Bill Jones. She sat still fornearly 'arf an hour, thinking 'ard, and then she turned to Joe and ses:
"She sat listening quite quiet at fust."]
"Can you read?" she ses.
"No," ses Joe, wondering wot was coming next.
"That's all right, then," she ses, "because if you could I couldn't dowot I'm going to do."
"That shows the 'arm of eddication," ses Joe. "I never did believe init."
Mrs. Prince nodded, and then she went and got a bottle with something init which looked to Joe like gin, and arter getting out 'er pen and inkand printing some words on a piece o' paper she stuck it on the
