SHIP'S COMPANY

By W.W. Jacobs



GOOD INTENTIONS


"Jealousy; that's wot it is," said the night-watchman, trying to sneer--
"pure jealousy." He had left his broom for a hurried half-pint at the
"Bull's Head"--left it leaning in a negligent attitude against the
warehouse-wall; now, lashed to the top of the crane at the jetty end, it
pointed its soiled bristles towards the evening sky and defied capture.

"And I know who it is, and why 'e's done it," he continued. "Fust and
last, I don't suppose I was talking to the gal for more than ten minutes,
and 'arf of that was about the weather.

"I don't suppose anybody 'as suffered more from jealousy than wot I 'ave:
Other people's jealousy, I mean. Ever since I was married the missis has
been setting traps for me, and asking people to keep an eye on me. I
blacked one of the eyes once--like a fool--and the chap it belonged to
made up a tale about me that I ain't lived down yet.

"Years ago, when I was out with the missis one evening, I saved a gal's
life for her. She slipped as she was getting off a bus, and I caught 'er
just in time. Fine strapping gal she was, and afore I could get my
balance we 'ad danced round and round 'arfway acrost the road with our
arms round each other's necks, and my missis watching us from the