THE OBSERVATIONS OF HENRY  BY JEROME K .  JEROME  author of  “ three men in a boat , ” “ diary of a pilgrimage , ” “ three men on the bummel , ” etc.  bristol  J .  W .  Arrowsmith , Quay Street  london  Simpkin , Marshall , Hamilton , Kent and Company Limited  1901  THE GHOST OF THE MARCHIONESS OF APPLEFORD .  This is the story , among others , of Henry the waiter — or , as he now prefers to call himself , Henri — told to me in the long dining-room of the Riffel Alp Hotel , where I once stayed for a melancholy week “ between seasons , ” sharing the echoing emptiness of the place with two maiden ladies , who talked all day to one another in frightened whispers .  Henry’s construction I have discarded for its amateurishness ; his method being generally to commence a story at the end , and then , working backwards to the beginning , wind up with the middle .  But in all other respects I have endeavoured to retain his method , which was individual ; and this , I think , is the story as he would have told it to me himself , had he told it in this order :  My first place — well to be honest , it was a coffee shop in the Mile End Road — I’m not ashamed of it .  We all have our beginnings .  Young “ Kipper , ” as we called him — he had no name of his own , not that he knew of anyhow , and that seemed to fit him down to the ground — had fixed his pitch just outside , between our door and the music hall at the corner ; and sometimes , when I might happen to have a bit on , I’d get a paper from him , and pay him for it , when the governor was not about , with a mug of coffee , and odds and ends that the other customers had left on their plates — an arrangement that suited both of us .  He was just about as sharp as they make boys , even in the Mile End Road , which is saying a good deal ; and now and then , spying around among the right sort , and keeping his ears open , he would put me up to a good thing , and I would tip him a bob or a tanner as the case might be .  He was the sort that gets on — you know .  One day in he walks , for all the world as if the show belonged to him , with a young imp of a girl on his arm , and down they sits at one of the tables .  “ Garsong , ” he calls out , “ what’s the menoo to-day ?  ”  “ The menoo to-day , ” I says , “ is that you get outside ’fore I clip you over the ear , and that you take that back and put it where you found it ; ” meaning o’ course , the kid .  She was a pretty little thing , even then , in spite of the dirt , with those eyes like saucers , and red hair .  It used to be called “ carrots ” in those days .  Now all the swells have taken it up — or as near as they can get to it — and it’s auburn .  “ ’Enery , ” he replied to me , without so much as turning a hair , “ I’m afraid you’re forgetting your position .  When I’m on the kerb shouting ‘Speshul !  ’ and you comes to me with yer ’a’penny in yer ’and , you’re master an’ I’m man .  When I comes into your shop to order refreshments , and to pay for ’em , I’m boss .  Savey ?  You can bring me a rasher and two eggs , and see that they’re this season’s .  The lidy will have a full-sized haddick and a cocoa .  ”  Well , there was justice in what he said .  He always did have sense , and I took his order .  You don’t often see anybody put it away like that girl did .  I took it she hadn’t had a square meal for many a long day .  She polished off a ninepenny haddick , skin and all , and after that she had two penny rashers , with six slices of bread and butter — “ doorsteps , ” as we used to call them — and two half pints of cocoa , which is a meal in itself the way we used to make it .  “ Kipper ” must have had a bit of luck that day .  He couldn’t have urged her on more had it been a free feed .  “ ’Ave an egg , ” he suggested , the moment the rashers had disappeared .  “ One of these eggs will just about finish yer .  ”  “ I don’t really think as I can , ” says she , after considering like .  “ Well , you know your own strength , ” he answers .  “ Perhaps you’re best without it .  Speshully if yer not used to ’igh living .  ”  I was glad to see them finish , ’cause I was beginning to get a bit nervous about the coin , but he paid up right enough , and giv me a ha’penny for myself .  That was the first time I ever waited upon those two , but it wasn’t to be the last by many a long chalk , as you’ll see .  He often used to bring her in after that .  Who she was and what she was he didn’t know , and she didn’t know , so there was a pair of them .  She’d run away from an old woman down Limehouse way , who used to beat her .  That was all she could tell him .  He got her a lodging with an old woman , who had an attic in the same house where he slept — when it would run to that — taught her to yell “ Speshul !  ” and found a corner for her .  There ain’t room for boys and girls in the Mile-End Road .  They’re either kids down there or they’re grown-ups .  “ Kipper ” and “ Carrots ” — as we named her — looked upon themselves as sweethearts , though he couldn’t have been more than fifteen , and she barely twelve ; and that he was regular gone on her anyone could see with half an eye .  Not that he was soft about it — that wasn’t his style .  He kept her in order , and she had just to mind , which I guess was a good thing for her , and when she wanted it he’d use his hand on her , and make no bones about it .  That’s the way among that class .  They up and give the old woman a friendly clump , just as you or me would swear at the missus , or fling a boot-jack at her .  They don’t mean anything more .  I left the coffee shop later on for a place in the city , and saw nothing more of them for five years .  When I did it was at a restaurant in Oxford Street — one of those amatoor shows run by a lot of women , who know nothing about the business , and spend the whole day gossiping and flirting — “ love-shops , ” I call ’em .  There was a yellow-haired lady manageress who never heard you when you spoke to her , ’cause she was always trying to hear what some seedy old fool would be whispering to her across the counter .  Then there were waitresses , and their notion of waiting was to spend an hour talking to a twopenny cup of coffee , and to look haughty and insulted whenever anybody as really wanted something ventured to ask for it .  A frizzle-haired cashier used to make love all day out of her pigeon-hole with the two box-office boys from the Oxford Music Hall , who took it turn and turn about .  Sometimes she’d leave off to take a customer’s money , and sometimes she wouldn’t .  I’ve been to some rummy places in my time ; and a waiter ain’t the blind owl as he’s supposed to be .  But never in my life have I seen so much love-making , not all at once , as used to go on in that place .  It was a dismal , gloomy sort of hole , and spoony couples seemed to scent it out by instinct , and would spend hours there over a pot of tea and assorted pastry .  “ Idyllic , ” some folks would have thought it : I used to get the fair dismals watching it .  There was one girl — a weird-looking creature , with red eyes and long thin hands , that gave you the creeps to look at .  She’d come in regular with her young man , a pale-faced nervous sort of chap , at three o’clock every afternoon .  Theirs was the funniest love-making I ever saw .  She’d pinch him under the table , and run pins into him , and he’d sit with his eyes glued on her as if she’d been a steaming dish of steak and onions and he a starving beggar the other side of the window .  A strange story that was — as I came to learn it later on .  I’ll tell you that , one day .  I’d been engaged for the “ heavy work , ” but as the heaviest order I ever heard given there was for a cold ham and chicken , which I had to slip out for to the nearest cook-shop , I must have been chiefly useful from an ornamental point of view .  I’d been there about a fortnight , and was feeling pretty sick of it , when in walked young “ Kipper .  ” I didn’t know him at first , he’d changed so .  He was swinging a silver-mounted crutch stick , which was the kind that was fashionable just then , and was dressed in a showy check suit and a white hat .  But the thing that struck me most was his gloves .  I suppose I hadn’t improved quite so much myself , for he knew me in a moment , and held out his hand .  “ What , ’Enery !  ” he says , “ you’ve moved on , then !  ”  “ Yes , ” I says , shaking hands with him , “ and I could move on again from this shop without feeling sad .  But you’ve got on a bit ?  ” I says .  “ So-so , ” he says , “ I’m a journalist .  ”  “ Oh , ” I says , “ what sort ?  ” for I’d seen a good many of that lot during six months I’d spent at a house in Fleet Street , and their get-up hadn’t sumptuousness about it , so to speak .  “ Kipper’s ” rig-out must have totted up to a tidy little sum .  He had a diamond pin in his tie that must have cost somebody fifty quid , if not him .  “ Well , ” he answers , “ I don’t wind out the confidential advice to old Beaky , and that sort of thing .  I do the tips , yer know .  ‘Cap’n Kit , ’ that’s my name .  ”  “ What , the Captain Kit ?  ” I says .  O’ course I’d heard of him .  “ Be’old !  ” he says .  “ Oh , it’s easy enough , ” he goes on .  “ Some of ’em’s bound to come out right , and when one does , you take it from me , our paper mentions the fact .  And when it is a wrong ’un — well , a man can’t always be shouting about himself , can ’e ?  ”  He ordered a cup of coffee .  He said he was waiting for someone , and we got to chatting about old times .  “ How’s Carrots ?  ” I asked .  “ Miss Caroline Trevelyan , ” he answered , “ is doing well .  ”  “ Oh , ” I says , “ you’ve found out her fam’ly name , then ?  ”  “ We’ve found out one or two things about that lidy , ” he replies .  “ D’yer remember ’er dancing ?  ”  “ I have seen her flinging her petticoats about outside the shop , when the copper wasn’t by , if that’s what you mean , ” I says .  “ That’s what I mean , ” he answers .  “ That’s all the rage now , ‘skirt-dancing’ they calls it .  She’s a-coming out at the Oxford to-morrow .  It’s ’er I’m waiting for .  She’s a-coming on , I tell you she is , ” he says .  “ Shouldn’t wonder , ” says I ; “ that was her disposition .  ”  “ And there’s another thing we’ve found out about ’er , ” he says .  He leant over the table , and whispered it , as if he was afraid that anybody else might hear : “ she’s got a voice .  ”  “ Yes , ” I says , “ some women have .  ”  “ Ah , ” he says , “ but ’er voice is the sort of voice yer want to listen to .  ”  “ Oh , ” I says , “ that’s its speciality , is it ?  ”  “ That’s it , sonny , ” he replies .  She came in a little later .  I’d a’ known her anywhere for her eyes , and her red hair , in spite of her being that clean you might have eaten your dinner out of her hand .  And as for her clothes !  Well , I’ve mixed a good deal with the toffs in my time , and I’ve seen duchesses dressed more showily and maybe more expensively , but her clothes seemed to be just a framework to show her up .  She was a beauty , you can take it from me ; and it’s not to be wondered that the La-De-Das were round her when they did see her , like flies round an open jam tart .  Before three months were up she was the rage of London — leastways of the music-hall part of it — with her portrait in all the shop windows , and interviews with her in half the newspapers .  It seems she was the daughter of an officer who had died in India when she was a baby , and the niece of a bishop somewhere in Australia .  He was dead too .  There didn’t seem to be any of her ancestry as wasn’t dead , but they had all been swells .  She had been educated privately , she had , by a relative ; and had early displayed an aptitude for dancing , though her friends at first had much opposed her going upon the stage .  There was a lot more of it — you know the sort of thing .  Of course , she was a connection of one of our best known judges — they all are — and she merely acted in order to support a grandmother , or an invalid sister , I forget which .  A wonderful talent for swallowing , these newspaper chaps has , some of ’em !  “ Kipper ” never touched a penny of her money , but if he had been her agent at twenty-five per cent .  he couldn’t have worked harder , and he just kept up the hum about her , till if you didn’t want to hear anything more about Caroline Trevelyan , your only chance would have been to lie in bed , and never look at a newspaper .  It was Caroline Trevelyan at Home , Caroline Trevelyan at Brighton , Caroline Trevelyan and the Shah of Persia , Caroline Trevelyan and the Old Apple-woman .  When it wasn’t Caroline Trevelyan herself it would be Caroline Trevelyan’s dog as would be doing something out of the common , getting himself lost or summoned or drowned — it didn’t matter much what .  I moved from Oxford Street to the new “ Horseshoe ” that year — it had just been rebuilt — and there I saw a good deal of them , for they came in to lunch there or supper pretty regular .  Young “ Kipper ” — or the “ Captain ” as everybody called him — gave out that he was her half-brother .  “ I’ad to be some sort of a relation , you see , ” he explained to me .  “ I’d a’ been ’er brother out and out ; that would have been simpler , only the family likeness wasn’t strong enough .  Our styles o’ beauty ain’t similar .  ” They certainly wasn’t .  “ Why don’t you marry her ?  ” I says , “ and have done with it ?  ”  He looked thoughtful at that .  “ I did think of it , ” he says , “ and I know , jolly well , that if I ’ad suggested it ’fore she’d found herself , she’d have agreed , but it don’t seem quite fair now .  ”  “ How d’ye mean fair ?  ” I says .  “ Well , not fair to ’er , ” he says .  “ I’ve got on all right , in a small way ; but she — well , she can just ’ave ’er pick of the nobs .  There’s one on ’em as I’ve made inquiries about .  ’E’ll be a dook , if a kid pegs out as is expected to , and anyhow ’e’ll be a markis , and ’e means the straight thing — no errer .  It ain’t fair for me to stand in ’er way .  ”  “ Well , ” I says , “ you know your own business , but it seems to me she wouldn’t have much way to stand in if it hadn’t been for you .  ”  “ Oh , that’s all right , ” he says .  “ I’m fond enough of the gell , but I shan’t clamour for a tombstone with wiolets , even if she ain’t ever Mrs. Capt’n Kit .  Business is business ; and I ain’t going to queer ’er pitch for ’er .  ”  I’ve often wondered what she’d a’ said , if he’d up and put the case to her plain , for she was a good sort ; but , naturally enough , her head was a bit swelled , and she’d read so much rot about herself in the papers that she’d got at last to half believe some of it .  The thought of her connection with the well-known judge seemed to hamper her at times , and she wasn’t quite so chummy with “ Kipper ” as used to be the case in the Mile-End Road days , and he wasn’t the sort as is slow to see a thing .  One day when he was having lunch by himself , and I was waiting on him , he says , raising his glass to his lips , “ Well , ’Enery , here’s luck to yer !  I won’t be seeing you agen for some time .  ”  “ Oh , ” I says .  “ What’s up now ?  ”  “ I am , ” he says , “ or rather my time is .  I’m off to Africa .  ”  “ Oh , ” I says , “ and what about — ”  “ That’s all right , ” he interrupts .  “ I’ve fixed up that — a treat .  Truth , that’s why I’m going .  ”  I thought at first he meant she was going with him .  “ No , ” he says , “ she’s going to be the Duchess of Ridingshire with the kind consent o’ the kid I spoke about .  If not , she’ll be the Marchioness of Appleford .  ’E’s doing the square thing .  There’s going to be a quiet marriage to-morrow at the Registry Office , and then I’m off .  ”  “ What need for you to go ?  ” I says .  “ No need , ” he says ; “ it’s a fancy o’ mine .  You see , me gone , there’s nothing to ’amper ’er — nothing to interfere with ’er settling down as a quiet , respectable toff .  With a ’alf-brother , who’s always got to be spry with some fake about ’is lineage and ’is ancestral estates , and who drops ’is ‘h’s , ’ complications are sooner or later bound to a-rise .  Me out of it — everything’s simple .  Savey ?  ”  Well , that’s just how it happened .  Of course , there was a big row when the family heard of it , and a smart lawyer was put up to try and undo the thing .  No expense was spared , you bet ; but it was all no go .  Nothing could be found out against her .  She just sat tight and said nothing .  So the thing had to stand .  They went and lived quietly in the country and abroad for a year or two , and then folks forgot a bit , and they came back to London .  I often used to see her name in print , and then the papers always said as how she was charming and graceful and beautiful , so I suppose the family had made up its mind to get used to her .  One evening in she comes to the Savoy .  My wife put me up to getting that job , and a good job it is , mind you , when you know your way about .  I’d never have had the cheek to try for it , if it hadn’t been for the missis .  She’s a clever one — she is .  I did a good day’s work when I married her .  “ You shave off that moustache of yours — it ain’t an ornament , ” she says to me , “ and chance it .  Don’t get attempting the lingo .  Keep to the broken English , and put in a shrug or two .  You can manage that all right .  ”  I followed her tip .  Of course the manager saw through me , but I got in a “ Oui , monsieur ” now and again , and they , being short handed at the time , could not afford to be strict , I suppose .  Anyhow I got took on , and there I stopped for the whole season , and that was the making of me .  Well , as I was saying , in she comes to the supper rooms , and toffy enough she looked in her diamonds and furs , and as for haughtiness there wasn’t a born Marchioness she couldn’t have given points to .  She comes straight up to my table and sits down .  Her husband was with her , but he didn’t seem to have much to say , except to repeat her orders .  Of course I looked as if I’d never set eyes on her before in all my life , though all the time she was a-pecking at the mayonnaise and a-sipping at the Giessler , I was thinking of the coffee-shop and of the ninepenny haddick and the pint of cocoa .  “ Go and fetch my cloak , ” she says to him after a while .  “ I am cold .  ”  And up he gets and goes out .  She never moved her head , and spoke as though she was merely giving me some order , and I stands behind her chair , respectful like , and answers according to the same tip ,  “ Ever hear from ‘Kipper’ ?  ” she says to me .  “ I have had one or two letters from him , your ladyship , ” I answers .  “ Oh , stow that , ” she says .  “ I am sick of ‘your ladyship.’ Talk English ; I don’t hear much of it .  How’s he getting on ?  ”  “ Seems to be doing himself well , ” I says .  “ He’s started an hotel , and is regular raking it in , he tells me .  ”  “ Wish I was behind the bar with him !  ” says she .  “ Why , don’t it work then ?  ” I asks .  “ It’s just like a funeral with the corpse left out , ” says she .  “ Serves me jolly well right for being a fool !  ”  The Marquis , he comes back with her cloak at that moment , and I says : “ Certainement , madame , ” and gets clear .  I often used to see her there , and when a chance occurred she would talk to me .  It seemed to be a relief to her to use her own tongue , but it made me nervous at times for fear someone would hear her .  Then one day I got a letter from “ Kipper ” to say he was over for a holiday and was stopping at Morley’s , and asking me to look him up .  He had not changed much except to get a bit fatter and more prosperous-looking .  Of course , we talked about her ladyship , and I told him what she said .  “ Rum things , women , ” he says ; “ never know their own minds .  ”  “ Oh , they know them all right when they get there , ” I says .  “ How could she tell what being a Marchioness was like till she’d tried it ?  ”  “ Pity , ” he says , musing like .  “ I reckoned it the very thing she’d tumble to .  I only come over to get a sight of ’er , and to satisfy myself as she was getting along all right .  Seems I’d better a’ stopped away .  ”  “ You ain’t ever thought of marrying yourself ?  ” I asks .  “ Yes , I have , ” he says .  “ It’s slow for a man over thirty with no wife and kids to bustle him , you take it from me , and I ain’t the talent for the Don Juan fake .  ”  “ You’re like me , ” I says , “ a day’s work , and then a pipe by your own fireside with your slippers on .  That’s my swarry .  You’ll find someone as will suit you before long .  ”  “ No I shan’t , ” says he .  “ I’ve come across a few as might , if it ’adn’t been for ’er .  It’s like the toffs as come out our way .  They’ve been brought up on ‘ris de veau à la financier , ’ and sich like , and it just spoils ’em for the bacon and greens .  ”  I give her the office the next time I see her , and they met accidental like in Kensington Gardens early one morning .  What they said to one another I don’t know , for he sailed that same evening , and , it being the end of the season , I didn’t see her ladyship again for a long while .  When I did it was at the Hôtel Bristol in Paris , and she was in widow’s weeds , the Marquis having died eight months before .  He never dropped into that dukedom , the kid turning out healthier than was expected , and hanging on ; so she was still only a Marchioness , and her fortune , though tidy , was nothing very big — not as that class reckons .  By luck I was told off to wait on her , she having asked for someone as could speak English .  She seemed glad to see me and to talk to me .  “ Well , ” I says , “ I suppose you’ll be bossing that bar in Capetown now before long ?  ”  “ Talk sense , ” she answers .  “ How can the Marchioness of Appleford marry a hotel keeper ?  ”  “ Why not , ” I says , “ if she fancies him ?  What’s the good of being a Marchioness if you can’t do what you like ?  ”  “ That’s just it , ” she snaps out ; “ you can’t .  It would not be doing the straight thing by the family .  No , ” she says , “ I’ve spent their money , and I’m spending it now .  They don’t love me , but they shan’t say as I have disgraced them .  They’ve got their feelings same as I’ve got mine .  ”  “ Why not chuck the money ?  ” I says .  “ They’ll be glad enough to get it back , ” they being a poor lot , as I heard her say .  “ How can I ?  ” she says .  “ It’s a life interest .  As long as I live I’ve got to have it , and as long as I live I’ve got to remain the Marchioness of Appleford .  ”  She finishes her soup , and pushes the plate away from her .  “ As long as I live , ” she says , talking to herself .  “ By Jove !  ” she says , starting up “ why not ?  ”  “ Why not what ?  ” I says .  “ Nothing , ” she answers .  “ Get me an African telegraph form , and be quick about it !  ”  I fetched it for her , and she wrote it and gave it to the porter then and there ; and , that done , she sat down and finished her dinner .  She was a bit short with me after that ; so I judged it best to keep my own place .  In the morning she got an answer that seemed to excite her , and that afternoon she left ; and the next I heard of her was a paragraph in the newspaper , headed — “ Death of the Marchioness of Appleford .  Sad accident .  ” It seemed she had gone for a row on one of the Italian lakes with no one but a boatman .  A squall had come on , and the boat had capsized .  The boatman had swum ashore , but he had been unable to save his passenger , and her body had never been recovered .  The paper reminded its readers that she had formerly been the celebrated tragic actress , Caroline Trevelyan , daughter of the well-known Indian judge of that name .  It gave me the blues for a day or two — that bit of news .  I had known her from a baby as you might say , and had taken an interest in her .  You can call it silly , but hotels and restaurants seemed to me less interesting now there was no chance of ever seeing her come into one again .  I went from Paris to one of the smaller hotels in Venice .  The missis thought I’d do well to pick up a bit of Italian , and perhaps she fancied Venice for herself .  That’s one of the advantages of our profession .  You can go about .  It was a second-rate sort of place , and one evening , just before lighting-up time , I had the salle-à-manger all to myself , and had just taken up a paper when I hears the door open , and I turns round .  I saw “ her ” coming down the room .  There was no mistaking her .  She wasn’t that sort .  I sat with my eyes coming out of my head till she was close to me , and then I says :  “ Carrots !  ” I says , in a whisper like .  That was the name that come to me .  “ ‘Carrots’ it is , ” she says , and down she sits just opposite to me , and then she laughs .  I could not speak , I could not move , I was that took aback , and the more frightened I looked the more she laughed till “ Kipper ” comes into the room .  There was nothing ghostly about him .  I never see a man look more as if he had backed the winner .  “ Why , it’s ’Enery , ” he says ; and he gives me a slap on the back , as knocks the life into me again .  “ I heard you was dead , ” I says , still staring at her .  “ I read it in the paper — ‘death of the Marchioness of Appleford.’ ”  “ That’s all right , ” she says .  “ The Marchioness of Appleford is as dead as a door-nail , and a good job too .  Mrs. Captain Kit’s my name , née ‘Carrots.’ ”  “ You said as ’ow I’d find someone to suit me ’fore long , ” says “ Kipper ” to me , “ and , by Jove !  you were right ; I ’ave .  I was waiting till I found something equal to her ladyship , and I’d ’ave ’ad to wait a long time , I’m thinking , if I ’adn’t come across this one ’ere ” ; and he tucks her up under his arm just as I remember his doing that day he first brought her into the coffee-shop , and Lord , what a long time ago that was !  * * * * *  That is the story , among others , told me by Henry , the waiter .  I have , at his request , substituted artificial names for real ones .  For Henry tells me that at Capetown Captain Kit’s First-class Family and Commercial Hotel still runs , and that the landlady is still a beautiful woman with fine eyes and red hair , who might almost be taken for a duchess — until she opens her mouth , when her accent is found to be still slightly reminiscent of the Mile-End Road .  THE USES AND ABUSES OF JOSEPH .  “ It is just the same with what you may call the human joints , ” observed Henry .  He was in one of his philosophic moods that evening .  “ It all depends upon the cooking .  I never see a youngster hanging up in the refrigerator , as one may put it , but I says to myself : ‘Now I wonder what the cook is going to make of you !  Will you be minced and devilled and fricasseed till you are all sauce and no meat ?  Will you be hammered tender and grilled over a slow fire till you are a blessing to mankind ?  Or will you be spoilt in the boiling , and come out a stringy rag , an immediate curse , and a permanent injury to those who have got to swallow you ?  ’  “ There was a youngster I knew in my old coffee-shop days , ” continued Henry , “ that in the end came to be eaten by cannibals .  At least , so the newspapers said .  Speaking for myself , I never believed the report : he wasn’t that sort .  If anybody was eaten , it was more likely the cannibal .  But that is neither here nor there .  What I am thinking of is what happened before he and the cannibals ever got nigh to one another .  He was fourteen when I first set eyes on him — Mile End fourteen , that is ; which is the same , I take it , as City eighteen and West End five-and-twenty — and he was smart for his age into the bargain : a trifle too smart as a matter of fact .  He always came into the shop at the same time — half-past two ; he always sat in the seat next the window ; and three days out of six , he would order the same dinner : a fourpenny beef-steak pudding — we called it beef-steak , and , for all practical purposes , it was beef-steak — a penny plate of potatoes , and a penny slice of roly-poly pudding — ‘chest expander’ was the name our customers gave it — to follow .  That showed sense , I always thought , that dinner alone ; a more satisfying menu , at the price , I defy any human being to work out .  He always had a book with him , and he generally read during his meal ; which is not a bad plan if you don’t want to think too much about what you are eating .  There was a seedy chap , I remember , used to dine at a cheap restaurant where I once served , just off the Euston Road .  He would stick a book up in front of him — Eppy something or other — and read the whole time .  Our four-course shilling table d’hôte with Eppy , he would say , was a banquet fit for a prince ; without Eppy he was of opinion that a policeman wouldn’t touch it .  But he was one of those men that report things for the newspapers , and was given to exaggeration .  “ A coffee-shop becomes a bit of a desert towards three o’clock ; and , after a while , young Tidelman , for that was his name , got to putting down his book and chatting to me .  His father was dead ; which , judging from what he told me about the old man , must have been a bit of luck for everybody ; and his mother , it turned out , had come from my own village in Suffolk ; and that constituted a sort of bond between us , seeing I had known all her people pretty intimately .  He was earning good money at a dairy , where his work was scouring milk-cans ; and his Christian name — which was the only thing Christian about him , and that , somehow or another , didn’t seem to fit him — was Joseph .  “ One afternoon he came into the shop looking as if he had lost a shilling and found sixpence , as the saying is ; and instead of drinking water as usual , sent the girl out for a pint of ale .  The moment it came he drank off half of it at a gulp , and then sat staring out of the window .  “ ‘What’s up ?  ’ I says .  ‘Got the shove ?  ’  “ ‘Yes , ’ he answers ; ‘but , as it happens , it’s a shove up .  I’ve been taken off the yard and put on the walk , with a rise of two bob a week.’ Then he took another pull at the beer and looked more savage than ever .  “ ‘Well , ’ I says , ‘that ain’t the sort of thing to be humpy about.’  “ ‘Yes it is , ’ he snaps back ; ‘it means that if I don’t take precious good care I’ll drift into being a blooming milkman , spending my life yelling “ Milk ahoi !  ” and spooning smutty-faced servant-gals across area railings.’  “ ‘Oh !  ’ I says , ‘and what may you prefer to spoon — duchesses ?  ’  “ ‘Yes , ’ he answers sulky-like ; ‘duchesses are right enough — some of ’em.’  “ ‘So are servant-gals , ’ I says , ‘some of ’em .  Your hat’s feeling a bit small for you this morning , ain’t it ?  ’  “ ‘Hat’s all right , ’ says he ; ‘it’s the world as I’m complaining of — beastly place ; there’s nothing to do in it.’  “ ‘Oh !  ’ I says ; ‘some of us find there’s a bit too much.’ I’d been up since five that morning myself ; and his own work , which was scouring milk-cans for twelve hours a day , didn’t strike me as suggesting a life of leisured ease .  “ ‘I don’t mean that , ’ he says .  ‘I mean things worth doing.’  “ ‘Well , what do you want to do , ’ I says , ‘that this world ain’t big enough for ?  ’  “ ‘It ain’t the size of it , ’ he says ; ‘it’s the dulness of it .  Things used to be different in the old days.’  “ ‘How do you know ?  ’ I says .  “ ‘You can read about it , ’ he answers .  “ ‘Oh , ’ I says , ‘and what do they know about it — these gents that sit down and write about it for their living !  You show me a book cracking up the old times , writ by a chap as lived in ’em , and I’ll believe you .  Till then I’ll stick to my opinion that the old days were much the same as these days , and maybe a trifle worse.’  “ ‘From a Sunday School point of view , perhaps yes , ’ says he ; ‘but there’s no gainsaying — ’  “ ‘No what ?  ’ I says .  “ ‘No gainsaying , ’ repeats he ; ‘it’s a common word in literatoor.’  “ ‘Maybe , ’ says I , ‘but this happens to be “ The Blue Posts Coffee House , ” established in the year 1863. We will use modern English here , if you don’t mind.’ One had to take him down like that at times .  He was the sort of boy as would talk poetry to you if you weren’t firm with him .  “ ‘Well then , there’s no denying the fact , ’ says he , ‘if you prefer it that way , that in the old days there was more opportunity for adventure.’  “ ‘What about Australia ?  ’ says I .  “ ‘Australia !  ’ retorts he ; ‘what would I do there ?  Be a shepherd , like you see in the picture , wear ribbons , and play the flute ?  ’  “ ‘There’s not much of that sort of shepherding over there , ’ says I , ‘unless I’ve been deceived ; but if Australia ain’t sufficiently uncivilised for you , what about Africa ?  ’  “ ‘What’s the good of Africa ?  ’ replies he ; ‘you don’t read advertisements in the “ Clerkenwell News ” : “ Young men wanted as explorers .  ” I’d drift into a barber’s shop at Cape Town more likely than anything else.’  “ ‘What about the gold diggings ?  ’ I suggests .  I like to see a youngster with the spirit of adventure in him .  It shows grit as a rule .  “ ‘Played out , ’ says he .  ‘You are employed by a company , wages ten dollars a week , and a pension for your old age .  Everything’s played out , ’ he continues .  ‘Men ain’t wanted nowadays .  There’s only room for clerks , and intelligent artisans , and shopboys.’  “ ‘Go for a soldier , ’ says I ; ‘there’s excitement for you.’  “ ‘That would have been all right , ’ says he , ‘in the days when there was real fighting.’  “ ‘There’s a good bit of it going about nowadays , ’ I says .  ‘We are generally at it , on and off , between shouting about the blessings of peace.’  “ ‘Not the sort of fighting I mean , ’ replies he ; ‘I want to do something myself , not be one of a row.’  “ ‘Well , ’ I says , ‘I give you up .  You’ve dropped into the wrong world it seems to me .  We don’t seem able to cater for you here.’  “ ‘I’ve come a bit too late , ’ he answers ; ‘that’s the mistake I’ve made .  Two hundred years ago there were lots of things a fellow might have done.’  “ ‘Yes , I know what’s in your mind , ’ I says : ‘pirates.’  “ ‘Yes , pirates would be all right , ’ says he ; ‘they got plenty of sea-air and exercise , and didn’t need to join a blooming funeral club.’  “ ‘You’ve got ideas above your station , ’ I says .  ‘You work hard , and one day you’ll have a milk-shop of your own , and be walking out with a pretty housemaid on your arm , feeling as if you were the Prince of Wales himself.’  “ ‘Stow it !  ’ he says ; ‘it makes me shiver for fear it might come true .  I’m not cut out for a respectable cove , and I won’t be one neither , if I can help it !  ’  “ ‘What do you mean to be , then ?  ’ I says ; ‘we’ve all got to be something , until we’re stiff ’uns.’  “ ‘Well , ’ he says , quite cool-like , ‘I think I shall be a burglar.’  “ I dropped into the seat opposite and stared at him .  If any other lad had said it I should have known it was only foolishness , but he was just the sort to mean it .  “ ‘It’s the only calling I can think of , ’ says he , ‘that has got any element of excitement left in it.’  “ ‘You call seven years at Portland “ excitement , ” do you ?  ’ says I , thinking of the argument most likely to tell upon him .  “ ‘What’s the difference , ’ answers he , ‘between Portland and the ordinary labouring man’s life , except that at Portland you never need fear being out of work ?  ’ He was a rare one to argue .  ‘Besides , ’ says he , ‘it’s only the fools as gets copped .  Look at that diamond robbery in Bond Street , two years ago .  Fifty thousand pounds’ worth of jewels stolen , and never a clue to this day !  Look at the Dublin Bank robbery , ’ says he , his eyes all alight , and his face flushed like a girl’s .  ‘Three thousand pounds in golden sovereigns walked away with in broad daylight , and never so much as the flick of a coat-tail seen .  Those are the sort of men I’m thinking of , not the bricklayer out of work , who smashes a window and gets ten years for breaking open a cheesemonger’s till with nine and fourpence ha’penny in it.’  “ ‘Yes , ’ says I , ‘and are you forgetting the chap who was nabbed at Birmingham only last week ?  He wasn’t exactly an amatoor .  How long do think he’ll get ?  ’  “ ‘A man like that deserves what he gets , ’ answers he ; ‘couldn’t hit a police-man at six yards.’  “ ‘You bloodthirsty young scoundrel , ’ I says ; ‘do you mean you wouldn’t stick at murder ?  ’  “ ‘It’s all in the game , ’ says he , not in the least put out .  ‘I take my risks , he takes his .  It’s no more murder than soldiering is.’  “ ‘It’s taking a human creature’s life , ’ I says .  “ ‘Well , ’ he says , ‘what of it ?  There’s plenty more where he comes from.’  “ I tried reasoning with him from time to time , but he wasn’t a sort of boy to be moved from a purpose .  His mother was the only argument that had any weight with him .  I believe so long as she had lived he would have kept straight ; that was the only soft spot in him .  But unfortunately she died a couple of years later , and then I lost sight of Joe altogether .  I made enquiries , but no one could tell me anything .  He had just disappeared , that’s all .  “ One afternoon , four years later , I was sitting in the coffee-room of a City restaurant where I was working , reading the account of a clever robbery committed the day before .  The thief , described as a well-dressed young man of gentlemanly appearance , wearing a short black beard and moustache , had walked into a branch of the London and Westminster Bank during the dinner-hour , when only the manager and one clerk were there .  He had gone straight through to the manager’s room at the back of the bank , taken the key from the inside of the door , and before the man could get round his desk had locked him in .  The clerk , with a knife to his throat , had then been persuaded to empty all the loose cash in the bank , amounting in gold and notes to nearly five hundred pounds , into a bag which the thief had thoughtfully brought with him .  After which , both of them — for the thief seems to have been of a sociable disposition — got into a cab which was waiting outside , and drove away .  They drove straight to the City : the clerk , with a knife pricking the back of his neck all the time , finding it , no doubt , a tiresome ride .  In the middle of Threadneedle Street , the gentlemanly young man suddenly stopped the cab and got out , leaving the clerk to pay the cabman .  “ Somehow or other , the story brought back Joseph to my mind .  I seemed to see him as that well-dressed gentlemanly young man ; and , raising my eyes from the paper , there he stood before me .  He had scarcely changed at all since I last saw him , except that he had grown better looking , and seemed more cheerful .  He nodded to me as though we had parted the day before , and ordered a chop and a small hock .  I spread a fresh serviette for him , and asked him if he cared to see the paper .  “ ‘Anything interesting in it , Henry ?  ’ says he .  “ ‘Rather a daring robbery committed on the Westminster Bank yesterday , ’ I answers .  “ ‘Oh , ah !  I did see something about that , ’ says he .  “ ‘The thief was described as a well-dressed young man of gentlemanly appearance , wearing a black beard and moustache , ’ says I .  “ He laughs pleasantly .  “ ‘That will make it awkward for nice young men with black beards and moustaches , ’ says he .  “ ‘Yes , ’ I says .  ‘Fortunately for you and me , we’re clean shaved.’  “ I felt as certain he was the man as though I’d seen him do it .  “ He gives me a sharp glance , but I was busy with the cruets , and he had to make what he chose out of it .  “ ‘Yes , ’ he replies , ‘as you say , it was a daring robbery .  But the man seems to have got away all right.’  “ I could see he was dying to talk to somebody about it .  “ ‘He’s all right to-day , ’ says I ; ‘but the police ain’t the fools they’re reckoned .  I’ve noticed they generally get there in the end.’  “ ‘There’s some very intelligent men among them , ’ says he : ‘no question of it .  I shouldn’t be surprised if they had a clue !  ’  “ ‘No , ’ I says , ‘no more should I ; though no doubt he’s telling himself there never was such a clever thief.’  “ ‘Well , we shall see , ’ says he .  “ ‘That’s about it , ’ says I .  “ We talked a bit about old acquaintances and other things , and then , having finished , he handed me a sovereign and rose to go .  “ ‘Wait a minute , ’ I says , ‘your bill comes to three-and-eight .  Say fourpence for the waiter ; that leaves sixteen shillings change , which I’ll ask you to put in your pocket.’  “ ‘As you will , ’ he says , laughing , though I could see he didn’t like it .  “ ‘And one other thing , ’ says I .  ‘We’ve been sort of pals , and it’s not my business to talk unless I’m spoken to .  But I’m a married man , ’ I says , ‘and I don’t consider you the sort worth getting into trouble for .  If I never see you , I know nothing about you .  Understand ?  ’  “ He took my tip , and I didn’t see him again at that restaurant .  I kept my eye on the paper , but the Westminster Bank thief was never discovered , and success , no doubt , gave him confidence .  Anyhow , I read of two or three burglaries that winter which I unhesitatingly put down to Mr. Joseph — I suppose there’s style in housebreaking , as in other things — and early the next spring an exciting bit of business occurred , which I knew to be his work by the description of the man .  “ He had broken into a big country house during the servants’ supper-hour , and had stuffed his pockets with jewels .  One of the guests , a young officer , coming upstairs , interrupted him just as he had finished .  Joseph threatened the man with his revolver ; but this time it was not a nervous young clerk he had to deal with .  The man sprang at him , and a desperate struggle followed , with the result that in the end the officer was left with a bullet in his leg , while Joseph jumped clean through the window , and fell thirty feet .  Cut and bleeding , if not broken , he would never have got away but that , fortunately for him , a tradesman’s cart happened to be standing at the servants’ entrance .  Joe was in it , and off like a flash of greased lightning .  How he managed to escape , with all the country in an uproar , I can’t tell you ; but he did it .  The horse and cart , when found sixteen miles off , were neither worth much .  “ That , it seems , sobered him down for a bit , and nobody heard any more of him till nine months later , when he walked into the Monico , where I was then working , and held out his hand to me as bold as brass .  “ ‘It’s all right , ’ says he , ‘it’s the hand of an honest man.’  “ ‘It’s come into your possession very recently then , ’ says I .  “ He was dressed in a black frock-coat and wore whiskers .  If I hadn’t known him , I should have put him down for a parson out of work .  “ He laughs .  ‘I’ll tell you all about it , ’ he says .  “ ‘Not here , ’ I answers , ‘because I’m too busy ; but if you like to meet me this evening , and you’re talking straight — ’  “ ‘Straight as a bullet , ’ says he .  ‘Come and have a bit of dinner with me at the Craven ; it’s quiet there , and we can talk .  I’ve been looking for you for the last week.’  “ Well , I met him ; and he told me .  It was the old story : a gal was at the bottom of it .  He had broken into a small house at Hampstead .  He was on the floor , packing up the silver , when the door opens , and he sees a gal standing there .  She held a candle in one hand and a revolver in the other .  “ ‘Put your hands up above your head , ’ says she .  “ ‘I looked at the revolver , ’ said Joe , telling me ; ‘it was about eighteen inches off my nose ; and then I looked at the gal .  There’s lots of ’em will threaten to blow your brains out for you , but you’ve only got to look at ’em to know they won’t .  “ ‘They are thinking of the coroner’s inquest , and wondering how the judge will sum up .  She met my eyes , and I held up my hands .  If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been here .  “ ‘Now you go in front , ’ says she to Joe , and he went .  She laid her candle down in the hall and unbolted the front door .  “ ‘What are you going to do ?  ’ says Joe , ‘call the police ?  Because if so , my dear , I’ll take my chance of that revolver being loaded and of your pulling the trigger in time .  It will be a more dignified ending.’  “ ‘No , ’ says she , ‘I had a brother that got seven years for forgery .  I don’t want to think of another face like his when he came out .  I’m going to see you outside my master’s house , and that’s all I care about.’  “ She went down the garden-path with him , and opened the gate .  “ ‘You turn round , ’ says she , ‘before you reach the bottom of the lane and I give the alarm.’ And Joe went straight , and didn’t look behind him .  “ Well , it was a rum beginning to a courtship , but the end was rummer .  The girl was willing to marry him if he would turn honest .  Joe wanted to turn honest , but didn’t know how .  “ ‘It’s no use fixing me down , my dear , to any quiet , respectable calling , ’ says Joe to the gal , ‘because , even if the police would let me alone , I wouldn’t be able to stop there .  I’d break out , sooner or later , try as I might.’  “ The girl went to her master , who seems to have been an odd sort of a cove , and told him the whole story .  The old gent said he’d see Joe , and Joe called on him .  “ ‘What’s your religion ?  ’ says the old gent to Joe .  “ ‘I’m not particular , sir ; I’ll leave it to you , ’ says Joe .  “ ‘Good !  ’ says the old gent .  ‘You’re no fanatic .  What are your principles ?  ’  “ At first Joe didn’t think he’d got any , but , the old gent leading , he found to his surprise as he had .  “ ‘I believe , ’ says Joe , ‘in doing a job thoroughly.’  “ ‘What your hand finds to do , you believe in doing with all your might , eh ?  ’ says the old gent .  “ ‘That’s it , sir , ’ says Joe .  ‘That’s what I’ve always tried to do.’  “ ‘Anything else ?  ’ asks the old gent .  “ ‘Yes ; stick to your pals , ’ said Joe .  “ ‘Through thick and thin , ’ suggests the old gent .  “ ‘To the blooming end , ’ agrees Joe .  “ ‘That’s right , ’ says the old gent .  ‘Faithful unto death .  And you really want to turn over a new leaf — to put your wits and your energy and your courage to good use instead of bad ?  ’  “ ‘That’s the idea , ’ says Joe .  “ The old gent murmurs something to himself about a stone which the builders wouldn’t have at any price ; and then he turns and puts it straight :  “ ‘If you undertake the work , ’ says he , ‘you’ll go through with it without faltering — you’ll devote your life to it ?  ’  “ ‘If I undertake the job , I’ll do that , ’ says Joe .  ‘What may it be ?  ’  “ ‘To go to Africa , ’ says the old gent , ‘as a missionary.’  “ Joe sits down and stares at the old gent , and the old gent looks him back .  “ ‘It’s a dangerous station , ’ says the old gent .  ‘Two of our people have lost their lives there .  It wants a man there — a man who will do something besides preach , who will save these poor people we have gathered together there from being scattered and lost , who will be their champion , their protector , their friend.’  “ In the end , Joe took on the job , and went out with his wife .  A better missionary that Society never had and never wanted .  I read one of his early reports home ; and if the others were anything like it his life must have been exciting enough , even for him .  His station was a small island of civilisation , as one may say , in the middle of a sea of savages .  Before he had been there a month the place had been attacked twice .  On the first occasion Joe’s ‘flock’ had crowded into the Mission House , and commenced to pray , that having been the plan of defence adopted by his predecessor .  Joe cut the prayer short , and preached to them from the text , ‘Heaven helps them as helps themselves’ ; after which he proceeded to deal out axes and old rifles .  In his report he mentioned that he had taken a hand himself , merely as an example to the flock ; I bet he had never enjoyed an evening more in all his life .  The second fight began , as usual , round the Mission , but seems to have ended two miles off .  In less than six months he had rebuilt the school-house , organised a police force , converted all that was left of one tribe , and started a tin church .  He added ( but I don’t think they read that part of his report aloud ) that law and order was going to be respected , and life and property secure in his district so long as he had a bullet left .  “ Later on the Society sent him still further inland , to open up a fresh station ; and there it was that , according to the newspapers , the cannibals got hold of him and ate him .  As I said , personally I don’t believe it .  One of these days he’ll turn up , sound and whole ; he is that sort .  ”  THE SURPRISE OF MR. MILBERRY .  “ It’s not the sort of thing to tell ’em , ” remarked Henry , as , with his napkin over his arm , he leant against one of the pillars of the verandah , and sipped the glass of Burgundy I had poured out for him ; “ and they wouldn’t believe it if you did tell ’em , not one of ’em .  But it’s the truth , for all that .  Without the clothes they couldn’t do it .  ”  “ Who wouldn’t believe what ?  ” I asked .  He had a curious habit , had Henry , of commenting aloud upon his own unspoken thoughts , thereby bestowing upon his conversation much of the quality of the double acrostic .  We had been discussing the question whether sardines served their purpose better as a hors d’œuvre or as a savoury ; and I found myself wondering for the moment why sardines , above all other fish , should be of an unbelieving nature ; while endeavouring to picture to myself the costume best adapted to display the somewhat difficult figure of a sardine .  Henry put down his glass , and came to my rescue with the necessary explanation .  “ Why , women — that they can tell one baby from another , without its clothes .  I’ve got a sister , a monthly nurse , and she will tell you for a fact , if you care to ask her , that up to three months of age there isn’t really any difference between ’em .  You can tell a girl from a boy and a Christian child from a black heathen , perhaps ; but to fancy you can put your finger on an unclothed infant and say : ‘That’s a Smith , or that’s a Jones , ’ as the case may be — why , it’s sheer nonsense .  Take the things off ’em , and shake them up in a blanket , and I’ll bet you what you like that which is which you’d never be able to tell again so long as you lived .  ”  I agreed with Henry , so far as my own personal powers of discrimination might be concerned , but I suggested that to Mrs. Jones or Mrs. Smith there would surely occur some means of identification .  “ So they’d tell you themselves , no doubt , ” replied Henry ; “ and of course , I am not thinking of cases where the child might have a mole or a squint , as might come in useful .  But take ’em in general , kids are as much alike as sardines of the same age would be .  Anyhow , I knew a case where a fool of a young nurse mixed up two children at an hotel , and to this day neither of those women is sure that she’s got her own .  ”  “ Do you mean , ” I said , “ there was no possible means of distinguishing ?  ”  “ There wasn’t a flea-bite to go by , ” answered Henry .  “ They had the same bumps , the same pimples , the same scratches ; they were the same age to within three days ; they weighed the same to an ounce ; and they measured the same to an inch .  One father was tall and fair , and the other was short and dark .  The tall , fair man had a dark , short wife ; and the short , dark man had married a tall , fair woman .  For a week they changed those kids to and fro a dozen times a day , and cried and quarrelled over them .  Each woman felt sure she was the mother of the one that was crowing at the moment , and when it yelled she was positive it was no child of hers .  They thought they would trust to the instinct of the children .  Neither child , so long as it wasn’t hungry , appeared to care a curse for anybody ; and when it was hungry it always wanted the mother that the other kid had got .  They decided , in the end , to leave it to time .  It’s three years ago now , and possibly enough some likeness to the parents will develop that will settle the question .  All I say is , up to three months old you can’t tell ’em , I don’t care who says you can .  ”  He paused , and appeared to be absorbed in contemplation of the distant Matterhorn , then clad in its rosy robe of evening .  There was a vein of poetry in Henry , not uncommon among cooks and waiters .  The perpetual atmosphere of hot food I am inclined to think favourable to the growth of the softer emotions .  One of the most sentimental men I ever knew kept a ham-and-beef shop just off the Farringdon Road .  In the early morning he could be shrewd and business-like , but when hovering with a knife and fork above the mingled steam of bubbling sausages and hissing peas-pudding , any whimpering tramp with any impossible tale of woe could impose upon him easily .  “ But the rummiest go I ever recollect in connection with a baby , ” continued Henry after a while , his gaze still fixed upon the distant snow-crowned peaks , “ happened to me at Warwick in the Jubilee year .  I’ll never forget that .  ”  “ Is it a proper story , ” I asked , “ a story fit for me to hear ?  ”  On consideration , Henry saw no harm in it , and told it to me accordingly .  * * * * *  He came by the ’bus that meets the 4.52 .  He’d a handbag and a sort of hamper : it looked to me like a linen-basket .  He wouldn’t let the Boots touch the hamper , but carried it up into his bedroom himself .  He carried it in front of him by the handles , and grazed his knuckles at every second step .  He slipped going round the bend of the stairs , and knocked his head a rattling good thump against the balustrade ; but he never let go that hamper — only swore and plunged on .  I could see he was nervous and excited , but one gets used to nervous and excited people in hotels .  Whether a man’s running away from a thing , or running after a thing , he stops at a hotel on his way ; and so long as he looks as if he could pay his bill one doesn’t trouble much about him .  But this man interested me : he was so uncommonly young and innocent-looking .  Besides , it was a dull hole of a place after the sort of jobs I’d been used to ; and when you’ve been doing nothing for three months but waiting on commercial gents as are having an exceptionally bad season , and spoony couples with guide-books , you get a bit depressed , and welcome any incident , however slight , that promises to be out of the common .  I followed him up into his room , and asked him if I could do anything for him .  He flopped the hamper on the bed with a sigh of relief , took off his hat , wiped his head with his handkerchief , and then turned to answer me .  “ Are you a married man ?  ” says he .  It was an odd question to put to a waiter , but coming from a gent there was nothing to be alarmed about .  “ Well , not exactly , ” I says — I was only engaged at that time , and that not to my wife , if you understand what I mean — “ but I know a good deal about it , ” I says , “ and if it’s a matter of advice — ”  “ It isn’t that , ” he answers , interrupting me ; “ but I don’t want you to laugh at me .  I thought if you were a married man you would be able to understand the thing better .  Have you got an intelligent woman in the house ?  ”  “ We’ve got women , ” I says .  “ As to their intelligence , that’s a matter of opinion ; they’re the average sort of women .  Shall I call the chambermaid ?  ”  “ Ah , do , ” he says .  “ Wait a minute , ” he says ; “ we’ll open it first .  ”  He began to fumble with the cord , then he suddenly lets go and begins to chuckle to himself .  “ No , ” he says , “ you open it .  Open it carefully ; it will surprise you .  ”  I don’t take much stock in surprises myself .  My experience is that they’re mostly unpleasant .  “ What’s in it ?  ” I says .  “ You’ll see if you open it , ” he says : “ it won’t hurt you .  ” And off he goes again , chuckling to himself .  “ Well , ” I says to myself , “ I hope you’re a harmless specimen .  ” Then an idea struck me , and I stopped with the knot in my fingers .  “ It ain’t a corpse , ” I says , “ is it ?  ”  He turned as white as the sheet on the bed , and clutched the mantlepiece .  “ Good God !  don’t suggest such a thing , ” he says ; “ I never thought of that .  Open it quickly .  ”  “ I’d rather you came and opened it yourself , sir , ” I says .  I was beginning not to half like the business .  “ I can’t , ” he says , “ after that suggestion of yours — you’ve put me all in a tremble .  Open it quick , man ; tell me it’s all right .  ”  Well , my own curiosity helped me .  I cut the cord , threw open the lid , and looked in .  He kept his eyes turned away , as if he were frightened to look for himself .  “ Is it all right ?  ” he says .  “ Is it alive ?  ”  “ It’s about as alive , ” I says , “ as anybody’ll ever want it to be , I should say .  ”  “ Is it breathing all right ?  ” he says .  “ If you can’t hear it breathing , ” I says , “ I’m afraid you’re deaf .  ”  You might have heard its breathing outside in the street .  He listened , and even he was satisfied .  “ Thank Heaven !  ” he says , and down he plumped in the easy-chair by the fireplace .  “ You know , I never thought of that , ” he goes on .  “ He’s been shut up in that basket for over an hour , and if by any chance he’d managed to get his head entangled in the clothes — I’ll never do such a fool’s trick again !  ”  “ You’re fond of it ?  ” I says .  He looked round at me .  “ Fond of it , ” he repeats .  “ Why , I’m his father .  ” And then he begins to laugh again .  “ Oh !  ” I says .  “ Then I presume I have the pleasure of addressing Mr. Coster King ?  ”  “ Coster King ?  ” he answers in surprise .  “ My name’s Milberry .  ”  I says : “ The father of this child , according to the label inside the cover , is Coster King out of Starlight , his mother being Jenny Deans out of Darby the Devil .  ”  He looks at me in a nervous fashion , and puts the chair between us .  It was evidently his turn to think as how I was mad .  Satisfying himself , I suppose , that at all events I wasn’t dangerous , he crept closer till he could get a look inside the basket .  I never heard a man give such an unearthly yell in all my life .  He stood on one side of the bed and I on the other .  The dog , awakened by the noise , sat up and grinned , first at one of us and then at the other .  I took it to be a bull-pup of about nine months old , and a fine specimen for its age .  “ My child !  ” he shrieks , with his eyes starting out of his head , “ That thing isn’t my child .  What’s happened ?  Am I going mad ?  ”  “ You’re on that way , ” I says , and so he was .  “ Calm yourself , ” I says ; “ what did you expect to see ?  ”  “ My child , ” he shrieks again ; “ my only child — my baby !  ”  “ Do you mean a real child ?  ” I says , “ a human child ?  ” Some folks have such a silly way of talking about their dogs — you never can tell .  “ Of course I do , ” he says ; “ the prettiest child you ever saw in all your life , just thirteen weeks old on Sunday .  He cut his first tooth yesterday .  ”  The sight of the dog’s face seemed to madden him .  He flung himself upon the basket , and would , I believe , have strangled the poor beast if I hadn’t interposed between them .  “ ’Tain’t the dog’s fault , ” I says ; “ I daresay he’s as sick about the whole business as you are .  He’s lost , too .  Somebody’s been having a lark with you .  They’ve took your baby out and put this in — that is , if there ever was a baby there .  ”  “ What do you mean ?  ” he says .  “ Well , sir , ” I says , “ if you’ll excuse me , gentlemen in their sober senses don’t take their babies about in dog-baskets .  Where do you come from ?  ”  “ From Banbury , ” he says ; “ I’m well known in Banbury .  ”  “ I can quite believe it , ” I says ; “ you’re the sort of young man that would be known anywhere .  ”  “ I’m Mr. Milberry , ” he says , “ the grocer , in the High Street .  ”  “ Then what are you doing here with this dog ?  ” I says .  “ Don’t irritate me , ” he answers .  “ I tell you I don’t know myself .  My wife’s stopping here at Warwick , nursing her mother , and in every letter she’s written home for the last fortnight she’s said , ‘Oh , how I do long to see Eric !  If only I could see Eric for a moment !  ’ ”  “ A very motherly sentiment , ” I says , “ which does her credit .  ”  “ So this afternoon , ” continues he , “ it being early-closing day , I thought I’d bring the child here , so that she might see it , and see that it was all right .  She can’t leave her mother for more than about an hour , and I can’t go up to the house , because the old lady doesn’t like me , and I excite her .  I wish to wait here , and Milly — that’s my wife — was to come to me when she could get away .  I meant this to be a surprise to her .  ”  “ And I guess , ” I says , “ it will be the biggest one you have ever given her .  ”  “ Don’t try to be funny about it , ” he says ; “ I’m not altogether myself , and I may do you an injury .  ”  He was right .  It wasn’t a subject for joking , though it had its humorous side .  “ But why , ” I says , “ put it in a dog-basket ?  ”  “ It isn’t a dog-basket , ” he answers irritably ; “ it’s a picnic hamper .  At the last moment I found I hadn’t got the face to carry the child in my arms : I thought of what the street-boys would call out after me .  He’s a rare one to sleep , and I thought if I made him comfortable in that he couldn’t hurt , just for so short a journey .  I took it in the carriage with me , and carried it on my knees ; I haven’t let it out of my hands a blessed moment .  It’s witchcraft , that’s what it is .  I shall believe in the devil after this .  ”  “ Don’t be ridiculous , ” I says , “ there’s some explanation ; it only wants finding .  You are sure this is the identical hamper you packed the child in ?  ”  He was calmer now .  He leant over and examined it carefully .  “ It looks like it , ” he says ; “ but I can’t swear to it .  ”  “ You tell me , ” I says , “ you never let it go out of your hands .  Now think .  ”  “ No , ” he says , “ it’s been on my knees all the time .  ”  “ But that’s nonsense , ” I says ; “ unless you packed the dog yourself in mistake for your baby .  Now think it over quietly .  I’m not your wife , I’m only trying to help you .  I shan’t say anything even if you did take your eyes off the thing for a minute .  ”  He thought again , and a light broke over his face .  “ By Jove !  ” he says , “ you’re right .  I did put it down for a moment on the platform at Banbury while I bought a ‘Tit-Bits.’ ”  “ There you are , ” I says ; “ now you’re talking sense .  And wait a minute ; isn’t to-morrow the first day of the Birmingham Dog Show ?  ”  “ I believe you’re right , ” he says .  “ Now we’re getting warm , ” I says .  “ By a coincidence this dog was being taken to Birmingham , packed in a hamper exactly similar to the one you put your baby in .  You’ve got this man’s bull-pup , he’s got your baby ; and I wouldn’t like to say off-hand at this moment which of you’s feeling the madder .  As likely as not , he thinks you’ve done it on purpose .  ”  He leant his head against the bed-post and groaned .  “ Milly may be here at any moment , ” says he , “ and I’ll have to tell her the baby’s been sent by mistake to a Dog Show !  I daresn’t do it , ” he says , “ I daresn’t do it .  ”  “ Go on to Birmingham , ” I says , “ and try and find it .  You can catch the quarter to six and be back here before eight .  ”  “ Come with me , ” he says ; “ you’re a good man , come with me .  I ain’t fit to go by myself .  ”  He was right ; he’d have got run over outside the door , the state he was in then .  “ Well , ” I says , “ if the guv’nor don’t object — ”  “ Oh !  he won’t , he can’t , ” cries the young fellow , wringing his hands .  “ Tell him it’s a matter of a life’s happiness .  Tell him — ”  “ I’ll tell him it’s a matter of half sovereign extra on to the bill , ” I says .  “ That’ll more likely do the trick .  ”  And so it did , with the result that in another twenty minutes me and young Milberry and the bull-pup in its hamper were in a third-class carriage on our way to Birmingham .  Then the difficulties of the chase began to occur to me .  Suppose by luck I was right ; suppose the pup was booked for the Birmingham Dog Show ; and suppose by a bit more luck a gent with a hamper answering description had been noticed getting out of the 5.13 train ; then where were we ?  We might have to interview every cabman in the town .  As likely as not , by the time we did find the kid , it wouldn’t be worth the trouble of unpacking .  Still , it wasn’t my cue to blab my thoughts .  The father , poor fellow , was feeling , I take it , just about as bad as he wanted to feel .  My business was to put hope into him ; so when he asked me for about the twentieth time if I thought as he would ever see his child alive again , I snapped him up shortish .  “ Don’t you fret yourself about that , ” I says .  “ You’ll see a good deal of that child before you’ve done with it .  Babies ain’t the sort of things as gets lost easily .  It’s only on the stage that folks ever have any particular use for other people’s children .  I’ve known some bad characters in my time , but I’d have trusted the worst of ’em with a wagon-load of other people’s kids .  Don’t you flatter yourself you’re going to lose it !  Whoever’s got it , you take it from me , his idea is to do the honest thing , and never rest till he’s succeeded in returning it to the rightful owner .  ”  Well , my talking like that cheered him , and when we reached Birmingham he was easier .  We tackled the station-master , and he tackled all the porters who could have been about the platform when the 5.13 came in .  All of ’em agreed that no gent got out of that train carrying a hamper .  The station-master was a family man himself , and when we explained the case to him he sympathised and telegraphed to Banbury .  The booking-clerk at Banbury remembered only three gents booking by that particular train .  One had been Mr. Jessop , the corn-chandler ; the second was a stranger , who had booked to Wolverhampton ; and the third had been young Milberry himself .  The business began to look hopeless , when one of Smith’s newsboys , who was hanging around , struck in :  “ I see an old lady , ” says he , “ hovering about outside the station , and a-hailing cabs , and she had a hamper with her as was as like that one there as two peas .  ”  I thought young Milberry would have fallen upon the boy’s neck and kissed him .  With the boy to help us , we started among the cabmen .  Old ladies with dog-baskets ain’t so difficult to trace .  She had gone to a small second-rate hotel in the Aston Road .  I heard all particulars from the chambermaid , and the old girl seems to have had as bad a time in her way as my gent had in his .  They couldn’t get the hamper into the cab , it had to go on the top .  The old lady was very worried , as it was raining at the time , and she made the cabman cover it with his apron .  Getting it off the cab they dropped the whole thing in the road ; that woke the child up , and it began to cry .  “ Good Lord , Ma’am !  what is it ?  ” asks the chambermaid , “ a baby ?  ”  “ Yes , my dear , it’s my baby , ” answers the old lady , who seems to have been a cheerful sort of old soul — leastways , she was cheerful up to then .  “ Poor dear , I hope they haven’t hurt him .  ”  The old lady had ordered a room with a fire in it .  The Boots took the hamper up , and laid it on the hearthrug .  The old lady said she and the chambermaid would see to it , and turned him out .  By this time , according to the girl’s account , it was roaring like a steam-siren .  “ Pretty dear !  ” says the old lady , fumbling with the cord , “ don’t cry ; mother’s opening it as fast as she can .  ” Then she turns to the chambermaid — “ If you open my bag , ” says she , “ you will find a bottle of milk and some dog-biscuits .  ”  “ Dog-biscuits !  ” says the chambermaid .  “ Yes , ” says the old lady , laughing , “ my baby loves dog-biscuits .  ”  The girl opened the bag , and there , sure enough , was a bottle of milk and half a dozen Spratt’s biscuits .  She had her back to the old lady , when she heard a sort of a groan and a thud as made her turn round .  The old lady was lying stretched dead on the hearthrug — so the chambermaid thought .  The kid was sitting up in the hamper yelling the roof off .  In her excitement , not knowing what she was doing , she handed it a biscuit , which it snatched at greedily and began sucking .  Then she set to work to slap the old lady back to life again .  In about a minute the poor old soul opened her eyes and looked round .  The baby was quiet now , gnawing the dog-biscuit .  The old lady looked at the child , then turned and hid her face against the chambermaid’s bosom .  “ What is it ?  ” she says , speaking in an awed voice .  “ The thing in the hamper ?  ”  “ It’s a baby , Ma’am , ” says the maid .  “ You’re sure it ain’t a dog ?  ” says the old lady .  “ Look again .  ”  The girl began to feel nervous , and to wish that she wasn’t alone with the old lady .  “ I ain’t likely to mistake a dog for a baby , Ma’am , ” says the girl .  “ It’s a child — a human infant .  ”  The old lady began to cry softly .  “ It’s a judgment on me , ” she says .  “ I used to talk to that dog as if it had been a Christian , and now this thing has happened as a punishment .  ”  “ What’s happened ?  ” says the chambermaid , who was naturally enough growing more and more curious .  “ I don’t know , ” says the old lady , sitting up on the floor .  “ If this isn’t a dream , and if I ain’t mad , I started from my home at Farthinghoe , two hours ago , with a one-year-old bulldog packed in that hamper .  You saw me open it ; you see what’s inside it now .  ”  “ But bulldogs , ” says the chambermaid , “ ain’t changed into babies by magic .  ”  “ I don’t know how it’s done , ” says the old lady , “ and I don’t see that it matters .  I know I started with a bulldog , and somehow or other it’s got turned into that .  ”  “ Somebody’s put it there , ” says the chambermaid ; “ somebody as wanted to get rid of a child .  They’ve took your dog out and put that in its place .  ”  “ They must have been precious smart , ” says the old lady ; “ the hamper hasn’t been out of my sight for more than five minutes , when I went into the refreshment-room at Banbury for a cup of tea .