by W. W. Jacobs
They're as like as two peas, him and 'is brother," said thenight-watchman, gazing blandly at the indignant face of the lightermanon the barge below; "and the on'y way I know this one is Sam is becauseBill don't use bad langwidge. Twins they are, but the likeness is onlyoutside; Bill's 'art is as white as snow."
He cut off a plug of tobacco, and, placing it in his cheek, waitedexpectantly.
"White as snow," he repeated.
"That's me," said the lighterman, as he pushed his unwieldy craft fromthe jetty. "I'll tell Sam your opinion of 'im. So long."
The watchman went a shade redder than usual. That's twins all over, hesaid, sourly, always deceiving people. It's Bill arter all, and, insteadof hurting 'is feelings, I've just been flattering of 'im up.
It ain't the fust time I've 'ad trouble over a likeness. I've been atwin myself in a manner o' speaking. It didn't last long, but it lastedlong enough for me to always be sorry for twins, and to make a lot ofallowance for them. It must be very 'ard to have another man going aboutwith your face on 'is shoulders, and getting it into trouble.
It was a year or two ago now. I was sitting one evening at the gate,smoking a pipe and looking at a newspaper I 'ad found in the office,when I see a gentleman coming along from the swing-bridge. Well-dressed,clean-shaved chap 'e was, smoking a cigarette. He was walking slow andlooking about 'im casual-like, until his eyes fell on me, when he gave aperfect jump of surprise, and, arter looking at me very 'ard, walked ona little way and then turned back. He did it twice, and I was just goingto say something to 'im, something that I 'ad been getting ready for'im, when he spoke to me.
"Good evening," he ses.
"Good evening," I ses, folding the paper over and looking at 'im rathersevere.
"I hope you'll excuse me staring," he ses, very perlite; "but I've neverseen such a face and figger as yours in all my life--never."
"Ah, you ought to ha' seen me a few years ago," I ses. "I'm likeeverybody else--I'm getting on."
"Rubbish!" he ses. "You couldn't be better if you tried. It'smarvellous! Wonderful! It's the very thing I've been looking for. Why,if you'd been made to order you couldn't ha' been better."
I thought at fust he was by way of trying to get a drink out o' me--I'vebeen played that game afore--but instead o' that he asked me whether I'ddo 'im the pleasure of 'aving one with 'im.
We went over to the Albion, and I believe I could have 'ad it in a pailif I'd on'y liked to say the word. And all the time I was drinking hewas looking me up and down, till I didn't know where to look, as thesaying is.
"I came down 'ere to look for somebody like you," he ses, "but I neverdreamt I should have such luck as this. I'm an actor, and I've got toplay the part of a sailor, and I've been worried some time 'ow to makeup for the part. D'ye understand?"
"No," I ses, looking at 'im.
"I want to look the real thing," he ses, speaking low so the landlordshouldn't hear. "I want to make myself the living image of you. If thatdon't fetch 'em I'll give up the stage and grow cabbages."
"Make yourself like me?" I ses. "Why, you're no more like me than I'mlike a sea-sick monkey."
"Not so much," he ses. "That's where the art comes in."
He stood me another drink, and then, taking my arm in a cuddling sort o'way, and calling me "Dear boy," 'e led me back to the wharf andexplained. He said 'e would come round next evening with wot 'e calledhis make-up box, and paint 'is face and make 'imself up till peoplewouldn't know one from the other.
"And wot about your figger?" I ses, looking at 'im.
"A cushion," he ses, winking, "or maybe a couple. And what aboutclothes? You'll 'ave to sell me those you've got on. Hat and all. Andboots."
I put a price on 'em that I thought would 'ave finished 'im then andthere, but it didn't. And at last, arter paying me so many morecompliments that they began to get into my 'ead, he fixed up a meetingfor 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 pintto 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 pintdidn'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 someothers as much like 'em as possible, on'y p'r'aps a bit older, in casethe missis should get asking questions; and then I sat wondering 'ow toget out with the sack without 'er noticing it. She's got a veryinquiring 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 adollar in the washus, and while she was busy on 'er hands and knees Iwent off as comfortable as you please.
I got into the office with it all right, and, just as it was gettingdark, a cab drove up to the wharf and the actor-chap jumped out with abig leather bag. I took 'im into the private office, and 'e was so readywith '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 downin front of 'im, he took a looking-glass and a box out of 'is bag andbegan to alter 'is face. Wot with sticks of coloured paint, and falseeyebrows, 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 'etook 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 intothe glass together while 'e gave the finishing touches, and then heclapped me on the back and said I was the handsomest sailorman inEngland.
"I shall have to make up a bit 'eavier when I'm behind the floats," heses; "but this is enough for 'ere. Wot do you think of the imitation ofyour 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 saidsomething 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. Hewalked up that wharf like a dancing-bear in a pair of trousers too tightfor 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 anythingso 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 whetheranybody 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.
"'Arf a pint o' four ale," he ses, smacking down a penny.
I see the landlord draw the beer and give it to 'im, but 'e didn't seemto take no notice of 'im. Then, just to open 'is eyes a bit, I walked inand put down a penny and asked for a 'arf-pint.
The landlord was just wiping down the counter at the time, and when Igave my order he looked up and stood staring at me with the wet cloth'eld up in the air. He didn't say a word--not a single word. He stoodthere for a moment smiling at us foolish-like, and then 'e let go o' thebeer-injin, wot 'e was 'olding in 'is left hand, and sat down heavy onthe bar floor. We both put our 'eads over the counter to see wot had'appened to 'im, and 'e started making the most 'orrible noise I 'aveever heard in my life. I wonder it didn't bring the fire-injins. Theactor-chap bolted out as if he'd been shot, and I was just thinking offollering 'im when the landlord's wife and 'is two daughters camerushing out and asking me wot I 'ad done to him.
"There--there--was two of 'im!" ses the landlord, trembling and holdingon to 'is wife's arm, as they helped 'im up and got 'im in the chair."Two of 'im!"
"Two of wot?" ses his wife.
"Two--two watchmen," ses the landlord; "both exac'ly alike and bothasking for 'arf a pint o' four ale."
"Yes, yes," ses 'is wife.
"You come and lay down, pa," ses the gals. "I tell you there was," sesthe l
andlord, getting 'is colour back, with temper.
"Yes, yes; I know all about it," ses 'is wife. "You come inside for abit; and, Gertie, you bring your father in a soda--a large soda."
They got 'im in arter a lot o' trouble; but three times 'e came back asfar as the door, 'olding on to them, and taking a little peep at me. Thelast time he shook his 'ead at me, and said if I did it agin I could goand get my 'arf-pints somewhere else.
I finished the beer wot the actor 'ad left, and, arter telling thelandlord I 'oped his eyesight 'ud be better in the morning, I wentoutside, and arter a careful look round walked back to the wharf.
I pushed the wicket open a little way and peeped in. The actor wasstanding just by the fust crane talking to two of the hands off of theSaltram. He'd got 'is back to the light, but 'ow it was they didn't twighis voice I can't think.
They was so busy talking that I crept along by the side of the wall andgot to the office without their seeing me. I went into the privateoffice and turned out the gas there, and sat down to wait for 'im. ThenI 'eard a noise outside that took me to the door agin and kept me there,'olding on to the door-post and gasping for my breath. The cook of theSaltram was sitting on a paraffin-cask playing the mouth-orgin, and theactor, with 'is arms folded across his stummick, was dancing a horn-pipeas if he'd gorn mad.
I never saw anything so ridikerlous in my life, and when I recollectedthat they thought it was me, I thought I should ha' dropped.
A night-watchman can't be too careful, and I knew that it 'ud be allover Wapping next morning that I 'ad been dancing to a tuppenny-ha'pennymouth-orgin played by a ship's cook. A man that does 'is dooty alwayshas a lot of people ready to believe the worst of 'im.
I went back into the dark office and waited, and by and by I 'eard themcoming along to the gate and patting 'im on the back and saying he oughtto be in a pantermime instead o' wasting 'is time night-watching. Heleft 'em at the gate, and then 'e came into the office smiling as ifhe'd done something clever.
"Wot d'ye think of me for a understudy?" he ses, laughing. "They allthought it was you. There wasn't one of 'em 'ad the slightest suspicion--not one."
"And wot about my character?" I ses, folding my arms acrost my chest andlooking at him.
"Character?" he ses, staring. "Why, there's no 'arm in dancing; it's ainnercent enjoyment."
"It ain't one o' my innercent enjoyments," I ses, "and I don't want toget the credit of it. If they hadn't been sitting in a pub all theevening they'd 'ave spotted you at once."
"Oh!" he ses, very huffy. "How?"
"Your voice," I ses. "You try and mimic a poll-parrot, and think it'slike me. And, for another thing, you walk about as though you're stuffedwith sawdust."
"I beg your pardon," he ses; "the voice and the walk are exact. Exact."
"Wot?" I ses, looking 'im up and down. "You stand there and 'ave theimpudence to tell me that my voice is like that?"
"I do," he ses.
"Then I'm sorry for you," I ses. "I thought you'd got more sense."
He stood looking at me and gnawing 'is finger, and by and by he ses,"Are you married?" he ses.
"I am," I ses, very short.
"Where do you live?" he ses.
I told 'im.
"Very good," he ses; "p'r'aps I'll be able to convince you arter all. Bythe way, wot do you call your wife? Missis?"
"Yes," I ses, staring at him. "But wot's it got to do with you?"
"Nothing," he ses. "Nothing. Only I'm going to try the poll-parrot voiceand the sawdust walk on her, that's all. If I can deceive 'er that'llsettle it."
"Deceive her?" I ses. "Do you think I'm going to let you go round to my'ouse and get me into trouble with the missis like that? Why, you mustbe crazy; that dancing must 'ave got into your 'ead."
"Where's the 'arm?" he ses, very sulky.
"'Arm?" I ses. "I won't 'ave it, that's all; and if you knew my missisyou'd know without any telling."
"I'll bet you a pound to a sixpence she wouldn't know me," he ses, veryearnest.
"She won't 'ave the chance," I ses, "so that's all about it."
He stood there argufying for about ten minutes; but I was as firm as arock. I wouldn't move an inch, and at last, arter we was both on thepoint of losing our tempers, he picked up his bag and said as 'ow hemust be getting off 'ome.
"But ain't you going to take those things off fust?" I ses.
"No," he ses, smiling. "I'll wait till I get 'ome. Ta-ta."
He put 'is bag on 'is shoulder and walked to the gate, with me folleringof 'im.
"I expect I shall see a cab soon," he ses. "Good-bye."
"Wot are you laughing at?" I ses.
"On'y thoughts," he ses.
"'Ave you got far to go?' I ses.
"No; just about the same distance as you 'ave," he ses, and he went offspluttering like a soda-water bottle.
I took the broom and 'ad a good sweep-up arter he 'ad gorn, and I wasjust in the middle of it when the cook and the other two chaps from theSaltram came back, with three other sailormen and a brewer's draymanthey 'ad brought to see me DANCE!
"Same as you did a little while ago, Bill," ses the cook, taking out 'isbeastly mouth-orgin and wiping it on 'is sleeve. "Wot toon would youlike?"
I couldn't get away from 'em, and when I told them I 'ad never danced inmy life the cook asked me where I expected to go to. He told the draymanthat I'd been dancing like a fairy in sea-boots, and they all got infront of me and wouldn't let me pass. I lost my temper at last, and,arter they 'ad taken the broom away from me and the drayman and one o'the sailormen 'ad said wot they'd do to me if I was on'y fifty yearsyounger, they sheered off.
I locked the gate arter 'em and went back to the office, and I 'adn'tbeen there above 'arf an hour when somebody started ringing thegate-bell as if they was mad. I thought it was the cook's lot come backat fust, so I opened the wicket just a trifle and peeped out. There wasa 'ansom-cab standing outside, and I 'ad hardly got my nose to the crackwhen the actor-chap, still in my clothes, pushed the door open andnipped in.
"You've lost," he ses, pushing the door to and smiling all over."Where's your sixpence?"
"Lost?" I ses, hardly able to speak. "D'ye mean to tell me you've beento my wife arter all--arter all I said to you?"
"I do," he ses, nodding, and smiling agin. "They were both deceived aseasy as easy."
"Both?" I ses, staring at 'im. "Both wot? 'Ow many wives d'ye think I'vegot? Wot d'ye mean by it?"
"Arter I left you," he ses, giving me a little poke in the ribs, "Ipicked up a cab and, fust leaving my bag at Aldgate, I drove on to your'ouse and knocked at the door. I knocked twice, and then anangry-looking woman opened it and asked me wot I wanted.
"'It's all right, missis,' I ses. 'I've got 'arf an hour off, and I'vecome to take you out for a walk.'
"'Wot?' she ses, drawing back with a start.
"'Just a little turn round to see the shops,' I ses; 'and if there'sanything particler you'd like and it don't cost too much, you shall 'aveit.'
"I thought at fust, from the way she took it, she wasn't used to yougiving 'er things.
"'Ow dare you!' she ses. 'I'll 'ave you locked up. 'Ow dare you insult arespectable married woman! You wait till my 'usband comes 'ome.'
"'But I am your 'usband,' I ses. 'Don't you know me, my pretty? Don'tyou know your pet sailor-boy?'
"She gave a screech like a steam-injin, and then she went next door andbegan knocking away like mad. Then I see that I 'ad gorn to numbertwelve instead of number fourteen. Your wife, your real wife, came outof number fourteen--and she was worse than the other. But they boththought it was you--there's no doubt of that. They chased me all the wayup the road, and if it 'adn't ha' been for this cab that was justpassing I don't know wot would 'ave 'appened to me."
He shook his 'ead and smiled agin, and, arter opening the wicket atrifle and telling the cabman he shouldn't be long, he turned to me andasked me for the sixpence, to wear on his watch-chain.
"Sixpence!" I ses. "SIXPE
NCE! Wot do you think is going to 'appen to mewhen I go 'ome?"
"Oh, I 'adn't thought o' that," he ses. "Yes, o' course."
"Wot about my wife's jealousy?" I ses. "Wot about the other, and her'usband, a cooper as big as a 'ouse?"
"Well, well," he ses, "one can't think of everything. It'll be all thesame a hundred years hence."
"Look 'ere," I ses, taking 'is shoulder in a grip of iron. "You comeback with me now in that cab and explain. D'ye see? That's wot you'vegot to do."
"All right," he ses; "certainly. Is--is the husband bad-tempered?"
"You'll see," I ses; "but that's your business. Come along."
"With pleasure," he ses, 'elping me in. "'Arf a mo' while I tell thecabby where to drive to."
He went to the back o' the cab, and afore I knew wot had 'appened the'orse had got a flick over the head with the whip and was going along ata gallop. I kept putting the little flap up and telling the cabby tostop, but he didn't take the slightest notice. Arter I'd done it threetimes he kept it down so as I couldn't open it.
There was a crowd round my door when the cab drove up, and in the middleof it was my missis, the woman next door, and 'er husband, wot 'ad justcome 'ome. 'Arf a dozen of 'em helped me out, and afore I could say aword the cabman drove off and left me there.
I dream of it now sometimes: standing there explaining and explaining,until, just as I feel I can't bear it any longer, two policemen come upand 'elp me indoors. If they had 'elped my missis outside it would be aeasier dream to have.
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