Ships Company

Company, The Entire Collection,
by W.W. Jacobs

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Title: Ship's Company, The Entire Collection
Author: W.W. Jacobs
Release Date: January 1, 2004 [EBook #10573]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHIP'S
COMPANY ***

Produced by David Widger

SHIP'S COMPANY
By W.W. Jacobs
CONTENTS:

Fine Feathers Friends in Need Good Intentions Fairy Gold Watch-Dogs
The Bequest The Guardian Angel Dual Control Skilled Assistance For
Better or Worse The Old Man of The Sea "Manners Makyth Man"

[Illustration: "Can I 'ave it took off while I eat my bloater, mother?"]

FINE FEATHERS
Mr. Jobson awoke with a Sundayish feeling, probably due to the fact
that it was Bank Holiday. He had been aware, in a dim fashion, of the
rising of Mrs. Jobson some time before, and in a semi-conscious
condition had taken over a large slice of unoccupied territory. He
stretched himself and yawned, and then, by an effort of will, threw off
the clothes and springing out of bed reached for his trousers.
He was an orderly man, and had hung them every night for over twenty
years on the brass knob on his side of the bed. He had hung them there
the night before, and now they had absconded with a pair of red braces
just entering their teens. Instead, on a chair at the foot of the bed was a
collection of garments that made him shudder. With trembling fingers
he turned over a black tailcoat, a white waistcoat, and a pair of light
check trousers. A white shirt, a collar, and tie kept them company, and,
greatest outrage of all, a tall silk hat stood on its own band-box beside
the chair. Mr. Jobson, fingering his bristly chin, stood: regarding the
collection with a wan smile.
"So that's their little game, is it?" he muttered. "Want to make a toff of
me. Where's my clothes got to, I wonder?"
A hasty search satisfied him that they were not in the room, and,
pausing only to drape himself in the counterpane, he made his way into
the next. He passed on to the others, and then, with a growing sense of
alarm, stole softly downstairs and making his way to the shop
continued the search. With the shutters up the place was almost in
darkness, and in spite of his utmost care apples and potatoes rolled on

to the floor and travelled across it in a succession of bumps. Then a
sudden turn brought the scales clattering down.
"Good gracious, Alf!" said a voice. "Whatever are you a-doing of?"
Mr. Jobson turned and eyed his wife, who was standing at the door.
"I'm looking for my clothes, mother," he replied, briefly.
"Clothes!" said Mrs. Jobson, with an obvious attempt at unconcerned
speech. "Clothes! Why, they're on the chair."
"I mean clothes fit for a Christian to wear--fit for a greengrocer to
wear," said Mr. Jobson, raising his voice.
"It was a little surprise for you, dear," said his wife. "Me and Bert and
Gladys and Dorothy 'ave all been saving up for it for ever so long."
"It's very kind of you all," said Mr. Jobson, feebly--"very, but--"
"They've all been doing without things themselves to do it," interjected
his wife. "As for Gladys, I'm sure nobody knows what she's given up."
"Well, if nobody knows, it don't matter," said Mr. Jobson. "As I was
saying, it's very kind of you all, but I can't wear 'em. Where's my
others?"
Mrs. Jobson hesitated.
"Where's my others?" repeated her husband.
"They're being took care of," replied his wife, with spirit. "Aunt
Emma's minding 'em for you--and you know what she is. H'sh! Alf! Alf!
I'm surprised at you!"
Mr. Jobson coughed. "It's the collar, mother," he said at last. "I ain't
wore a collar for over twenty years; not since we was walking out
together. And then I didn't like it."

"More shame for you," said his wife. "I'm sure there's no other
respectable tradesman goes about with a handkerchief knotted round
his neck."
"P'r'aps their skins ain't as tender as what mine is," urged Mr. Jobson;
"and besides, fancy me in a top-'at! Why, I shall be the laughing-stock
of the place."
"Nonsense!" said his wife. "It's only the lower classes what would
laugh, and nobody minds what they think."
Mr. Jobson sighed. "Well, I shall 'ave to go back to bed again, then," he
said, ruefully. "So long, mother. Hope you have a pleasant