Captains All | Page 4

and Sam said when he was tired of playing bears p'r'aps he'd go to bed and get to sleep like a Christian.
They 'ad it all over agin next morning, and at last, as nobody would agree to keep quiet and let the others 'ave a fair chance, they made up their minds to let the best man win. Ginger Dick bought a necktie that took all the colour out o' Sam's, and Peter Russet went in for a collar so big that 'e was lost in it.
They all strolled into the widow's shop separate that night. Ginger Dick 'ad smashed his pipe and wanted another; Peter Russet wanted some tobacco; and old Sam Small walked in smiling, with a little silver brooch for 'er, that he said 'e had picked up.
It was a very nice brooch, and Mrs. Finch was so pleased with it that Ginger and Peter sat there as mad as they could be because they 'adn't thought of the same thing.
"Captain Small is very lucky at finding things," ses Ginger, at last.
"He's got the name for it," ses Peter Russet.
"It's a handy 'abit," ses Ginger; "it saves spending money. Who did you give that gold bracelet to you picked up the other night, captin?" he ses, turning to Sam.
"Gold bracelet?" ses Sam. "I didn't pick up no gold bracelet. Wot are you talking about?"
"All right, captin; no offence," ses Ginger, holding up his 'and. "I dreamt I saw one on your mantelpiece, I s'pose. P'r'aps I oughtn't to ha' said anything about it."
Old Sam looked as though he'd like to eat 'im, especially as he noticed Mrs. Finch listening and pretending not to. "Oh! that one," he ses, arter a bit o' hard thinking. "Oh! I found out who it belonged to. You wouldn't believe 'ow pleased they was at getting it back agin."
Ginger Dick coughed and began to think as 'ow old Sam was sharper than he 'ad given 'im credit for, but afore he could think of anything else to say Mrs. Finch looked at old Sam and began to talk about 'is ship, and to say 'ow much she should like to see over it.
"I wish I could take you," ses Sam, looking at the other two out o' the corner of his eye, "but my ship's over at Dunkirk, in France. I've just run over to London for a week or two to look round."
"And mine's there too," ses Peter Russet, speaking a'most afore old Sam 'ad finished; "side by side they lay in the harbour."
"Oh, dear," ses Mrs. Finch, folding her 'ands and shaking her 'cad. "I should like to go over a ship one arternoon. I'd quite made up my mind to it, knowing three captins."
She smiled and looked at Ginger; and Sam and Peter looked at 'im too, wondering whether he was going to berth his ship at Dunkirk alongside o' theirs.
"Ah, I wish I 'ad met you a fortnight ago," ses Ginger, very sad. "I gave up my ship, the High flyer, then, and I'm waiting for one my owners are 'aving built for me at New-castle. They said the High flyer wasn't big enough for me. She was a nice little ship, though. I believe I've got 'er picture somewhere about me!"
He felt in 'is pocket and pulled out a little, crumpled-up photograph of a ship he'd been fireman aboard of some years afore, and showed it to 'er.
"That's me standing on the bridge," he ses, pointing out a little dot with the stem of 'is pipe.
"It's your figger," ses Mrs. Finch, straining her eyes. "I should know it anywhere."
"You've got wonderful eyes, ma'am," ses old Sam, choking with 'is pipe.
"Anybody can see that," ses Ginger. "They're the largest and the bluest I've ever seen."
Mrs. Finch told 'im not to talk nonsense, but both Sam and Peter Russet could see 'ow pleased she was.
"Truth is truth," ses Ginger. "I'm a plain man, and I speak my mind."
"Blue is my fav'rit' colour," ses old Sam, in a tender voice. "True blue."
Peter Russet began to feel out of it. "I thought brown was," he ses.
"Ho!" ses Sam, turning on 'im; "and why?"
"I 'ad my reasons," ses Peter, nodding, and shutting 'is mouth very firm.
"I thought brown was 'is fav'rit colour too," ses Ginger. "I don't know why. It's no use asking me; because if you did I couldn't tell you."
"Brown's a very nice colour," ses Mrs. Finch, wondering wot was the matter with old Sam.
"Blue," ses Ginger; "big blue eyes--they're the ones for me. Other people may 'ave their blacks and their browns," he ses, looking at Sam and Peter Russet, "but give me blue."
They went on like that all the evening, and every time the shop-bell went and the widow 'ad to go out to serve a customer they