by W. W. Jacobs
Produced by David Widger
SAILORS' KNOTS
By W.W. Jacobs
1909
"MATRIMONIAL OPENINGS"
Mr. Dowson sat by the kitchen fire smoking and turning a docile and well-trained ear to the heated words which fell from his wife's lips.
"She'll go and do the same as her sister Jenny done," said Mrs. Dowson,with a side glance at her daughter Flora; "marry a man and then 'ave towork and slave herself to skin and bone to keep him."
"I see Jenny yesterday," said her husband, nodding. "Getting quite fat,she is."
"That's right," said Mrs. Dowson, violently, "that's right! The moment Isay something you go and try and upset it."
"Un'ealthy fat, p'r'aps," said Mr. Dowson, hurriedly; "don't get enoughexercise, I s'pose."
"Anybody who didn't know you, Joe Dowson," said his wife, fiercely,"would think you was doing it a purpose."
"Doing wot?" inquired Mr. Dowson, removing his pipe and regarding heropen-mouthed. "I only said----"
"I know what you said," retorted his wife. "Here I do my best frommorning to night to make everybody 'appy and comfortable; and whathappens?"
"Nothing," said the sympathetic Mr. Dowson, shaking his head. "Nothing."
"Anyway, Jenny ain't married a fool," said Mrs. Dowson, hotly; "she's gotthat consolation."
"That's right, mother," said the innocent Mr. Dowson, "look on the brightside o' things a bit. If Jenny 'ad married a better chap I don't supposewe should see half as much of her as wot we do."
"I'm talking of Flora," said his wife, restraining herself by an effort."One unfortunate marriage in the family is enough; and here, instead o'walking out with young Ben Lippet, who'll be 'is own master when hisfather dies, she's gadding about with that good-for-nothing CharlieFoss."
Mr. Dowson shook his head. "He's so good-looking, is Charlie," he said,slowly; "that's the worst of it. Wot with 'is dark eyes and his curly'air----"
"Go on!" said his wife, passionately, "go on!"
Mr. Dowson, dimly conscious that something was wrong, stopped and puffedhard at his pipe. Through the cover of the smoke he bestowed asympathetic wink upon his daughter.
"You needn't go on too fast," said the latter, turning to her mother. "Ihaven't made up my mind yet. Charlie's looks are all right, but he ain'tover and above steady, and Ben is steady, but he ain't much to look at."
"What does your 'art say?" inquired the sentimental Mr. Dowson.
Neither lady took the slightest notice.
"Charlie Foss is too larky," said Mrs. Dowson, solemnly; "it's easy comeand easy go with 'im. He's just such another as your father's cousinBill--and look what 'appened to him!"
Miss Dowson shrugged her shoulders and subsiding in her chair, went onwith her book, until a loud knock at the door and a cheerful, butpeculiarly shrill, whistle sounded outside.
"Miss Dowson, subsiding in her chair, went on with herbook."]
"There is my lord," exclaimed Mrs. Dowson, waspishly; "anybody mightthink the 'ouse belonged to him. And now he's dancing on my cleandoorstep."
"Might be only knocking the mud off afore coming in," said Mr. Dowson, ashe rose to open the door. "I've noticed he's very careful."
"I just came in to tell you a joke," said Mr. Foss, as he followed hishost into the kitchen and gazed tenderly at Miss Dowson--"best joke Iever had in my life; I've 'ad my fortune told--guess what it was! I'vebeen laughing to myself ever since."
"Who told it?" inquired Mrs. Dowson, after a somewhat awkward silence.
"Old gypsy woman in Peter Street," replied Mr. Foss. "I gave 'er a wrongname and address, just in case she might ha' heard about me, and she didmake a mess of it; upon my word she did."
"Wot did she say?" inquired Mr. Dowson.
Mr. Foss laughed. "Said I was a wrong 'un," he said, cheerfully, "andwould bring my mother's gray hairs to the grave with sorrow. I'm to 'avebad companions and take to drink; I'm to steal money to gamble with, andafter all that I'm to 'ave five years for bigamy. I told her I wasdisappointed I wasn't to be hung, and she said it would be adisappointment to a lot of other people too. Laugh! I thought I should'ave killed myself."
"I don't see nothing to laugh at," said Mrs. Dowson, coldly.
"I shouldn't tell anybody else, Charlie," said her husband. "Keep it asecret, my boy."
"But you--you don't believe it?" stammered the crestfallen Mr. Foss.
Mrs. Dowson cast a stealthy glance at her daughter. "Its wonderful 'owsome o' those fortune-tellers can see into the future," she said, shakingher head.
"Ah!" said her husband, with a confirmatory nod. "Wonderful is no namefor it. I 'ad my fortune told once when I was a boy, and she told me Ishould marry the prettiest, and the nicest, and the sweetest-tempered galin Poplar."
Mr. Foss, with a triumphant smile, barely waited for him to finish."There you--" he began, and stopped suddenly.
"I just came in to tell you a joke."]
"What was you about to remark?" inquired Mrs. Dowson, icily.
"I was going to say," replied Mr. Foss--"I was going to say--I 'ad justgot it on the tip o' my tongue to say, 'There you--you--you 'ad all theluck, Mr. Dowson.'"
He edged his chair a little nearer to Flora; but there was a chillinessin the atmosphere against which his high spirits strove in vain. Mr.Dowson remembered other predictions which had come true, notably the caseof one man who, learning that he was to come in for a legacy, gave up atwo-pound-a-week job, and did actually come in for twenty pounds and abird-cage seven years afterwards.
"He edged his chair a little nearer to Flora."]
"It's all nonsense," protested Mr. Foss; "she only said all that becauseI made fun of her. You don't believe it, do you, Flora?"
"I don't see anything to laugh at," returned Miss Dowson. "Fancy fiveyears for bigamy! Fancy the disgrace of it!"
"But you're talking as if I was going to do it," objected Mr. Foss. "Iwish you'd go and 'ave your fortune told. Go and see what she says aboutyou. P'r'aps you won't believe so much in fortune-telling afterwards."
Mrs. Dowson looked up quickly, and then, lowering her eyes, took her handout of the stocking she had been darning and, placing it beside itscompanion, rolled the pair into a ball.
"You go round to-morrow night, Flora," she said, deliberately. "Itsha'n't be said a daughter of mine was afraid to hear the truth aboutherself; father'll find the money."
"And she can say what she likes about you, but I sha'n't believe it,"said Mr. Foss, reproachfully.
"I don't suppose it'll be anything to be ashamed of," said Miss Dowson,sharply.
Mr. Foss bade them good-night suddenly, and, finding himself accompaniedto the door by Mr. Dowson, gave way to gloom. He stood for so long withone foot on the step and the other on the mat that Mr. Dowson, whodisliked draughts, got impatient.
"Mr. Foss bade them good-night suddenly."]
"You'll catch cold, Charlie," he said at last.
"That's what I'm trying to do," said Mr. Foss; "my death o' cold. Then Isha'n't get five years for bigamy," he added bitterly.
"Cheer up," said Mr. Dowson; "five years ain't much out of a lifetime;and you can't expect to 'ave your fun without--"
He watched the retreating figure of Mr. Foss as it stamped its way downthe street, and closing the door returned to the kitchen to discusspalmistry and other sciences until bedtime.
Mrs. Dowson saw husband and daughter off to work in the morning, andafter washing up the breakfast things drew her chair up to the kitchenfire and became absorbed in memories of the past. All the leadingincidents in Flora's career passed in review before her. Measles,whooping-cough, school-prizes, and other things peculiar to the age ofinnocence were all there.
In her enthusiasm she nearly gave her asprained ankle which had belonged to her sister. Still shaking her headover her mistake, she drew Flora's latest portrait
