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A Golden Venture · The Lady of the Barge and other Stort Stories

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Section eleven of the Lady of the Barge. This is a LibriVox recording.
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All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
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please visit LibriVox dot org. Read by Melissa Marie. The Lady of
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the Barge by W. W. Jacobs, A Golden venture. The elders
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of the Tigger family sat at breakfast, Missus Tidger with knees wide apart in
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the youngest Tidger nestling in the valley of print dress which lay between, and
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mister Tidger bearing on one moleskin knee, a small copy of himself in a
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red flannel frock, and a slipper. The larger Tiger children took the solids
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of their breakfast up and down the stone flagged court outside, coming in occasionally
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to gulp drafts of very weak tea from a gallipod or two which stood on
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the table, and to wheedle mister Tidger out of any small piece of bloater
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which he felt generous enough to bestow peg away, Anne, said mister Tidger
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heartily. His wife's elder sister shook her head, and passing the remains of
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her slice to one of her small nephews, leaned back in her chair.
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No appetite, Tidger, she said slowly. You should go in for carpentering,
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said mister Tidger, in justification of the huge crust he was carving into
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mouthfuls with his pocket knife. Seems to me I can't eat enough sometimes.
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HULLO, who's the letter for? He took it from the postman who stood
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at the door amid a bevy of Tigger's who had followed him up the court,
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and slowly read the address. Missus Anne Pullan, he said, handing
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it over to his sister in law, nice Rittin too. Missus Pullan broke
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the envelope, and, after a somewhat lengthy search for her pocket, fumbled
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therein for her spectacles. She then searched the mantelpiece, the chest of drawers,
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and the dresser, and finally ran them to earth on the copper.
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She was not a good scholar, and it took her some time to read
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the letter, a proceeding which she punctuated with such ohs and ahs and gaspings
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and God bless my souls, as nearly drove the carpenter and his wife,
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who were leaning forward impatiently to the verge of desperation. Who's it from,
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asked mister Tidger for the third time. I don't know, said Missus Pullan.
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Good gracious, whoever would have thought it? Thought what? Anne?
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Demanded the carpenter feverishly. Why don't people write their name's plain, demanded his
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sister in law impatiently. It's got a printed name up in the corner.
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Perhaps that's it. Well, I never did. I don't know whether I'm
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standin on my head or my heels. You're sittin down, that's what you're
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a doin, said the carpenter, regarding her somewhat unfavorably. Perhaps it's a
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take in, said Missus, pulling her lips trembling. I've heard of such
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things. If it is, I shall never get over it. Never get
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over what, asked the carpenter. It don't look like a take in,
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soliloquized Missus Pullan. And I shouldn't think anybody'd go to all that trouble and
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spend a penny to take in a poor thing like me. Mister Tidger,
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throwing politeness to the winds, leaped forward and snatching the letter from her,
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read it with feverish haste tempered by a defective education. It's a take in,
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Anne, he said, his voice trembling. It must be, what
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is asked missus Tigger impatiently, looks like it, says missus Pullan feebly.
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What is it? Screamed missus Tigger, wrought beyond all endurance. Her husband
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turned and regarded her with much severity, but Missus Tigger's gaze was the stronger,
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and after a vain attempt to meet it, he handed her the letter.
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Missus Tidger read it through hastily, and then snatching the baby from her
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lap, held it out with both arms to her husband, and, jumping
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up, kissed her sister heartily, patting her on the back in her excitement
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until she coughed with the pain of it. You don't think it's a tip
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take in, Polly, she inquired, take in, said her sister.
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Of course it ain't. Lawyers don't play jokes. They're time's too valuable.
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Nope, you're an heiress, all right, Anne An, I wish you
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joy. I couldn't be more pleased if it was myself. She kissed her
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again, and going to pat her back once more, discovered that she had
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sunk down sufficiently low in her chair to obtain the protection of its back.
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Two thousand pounds, said missus Pulland, in an awe struck voice. Ten
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hundred pounds twice over, said the carpenter, mouthing it slowly, twenty hundred
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pounds. He got up from the table, and, instinctively, realizing that
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he could not do full justice to his feelings with the baby in his arms,
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laid it on the tea tray in a puddle of cold tea, and
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stood looking hard at the heiress. I was housekeeper to her eleven years ago,
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said missus Pulland I wonder what she left it to me for. Didn't
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know what to do with it, I should think, said the carpenter,
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still staring open myuth tidger. I'm ashamed of you, said his wife,
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snatching her infant to her bosom. I expect you was very good to her.
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Anne. I never had no luck, said the impenitent carpenter. Nobody
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ever left me no money, Nobody ever left me so much as a five
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pun note. He stared round disdainfully at his poor belongings, and, drawing
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on his coat, took his bag from a corner and, hoisting it on
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his shoulder, started to his work. He scattered the news as he went,
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and it ran up and down the little main street of Thatcham, and
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thence to the outlying lanes and cottages. Within a couple of hours, it
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was common property, and the fortunate legatee was presented with a congratulatory address every
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time she ventured near the door. It is an old adage that money makes
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friends. The carpenter was surprised to find that the mere fact of his having
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a moneyed relation had the same effect, and that men to whom he had
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hitherto shown a certain amount of respect due to their position, now sought his
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company. They stood him beer at the bell, and walked by his side
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through the street. When they took to dropping in of an evening to smoke
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a pipe, the carpenter was radiant with happiness. You don't seem to see
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beyond the end of your nose, tiger, said the wife of his bosom.
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After they had retired one evening, hum said the startled carpenter, What
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do you think, old miller the dealer comes here for, demanded his wife.
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Smoke his pipe, replied her husband confidently, and old widget persisted,
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missus tigger smoke his pipe was the reply, Why what's the matter, Polly,
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missus Tigger sniffed derisively. You men are all alike, she snapped.
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What do you think Anne wear's that pink bodice? For I never noticed she
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had a pink bodice, Polly, said the carpenter. No, that's what
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I say. You men never notice anything, said his wife. If you
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don't send them two old fools off, I will. Don't you like em
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to see Anne wearin pink? Inquired thefied tigger. Missus Tigger bit her lip
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and shook her head at him scornfully in plain English, Tigger, as plain
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as I can speak it, she said severely. Thereafter Anne and her bit
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O money. Mister Tigger gazed at her, open mouthed, and, taking
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advantage of that fact, blew out the candle to hide his discomposure. What
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he said blankly at her time, O life, watch em tomorrow, said
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his wife. The carpenter acted upon his instructions, and his eye arose as
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he noticed the assiduous attention paid by his two friends to the frivolous Missus pulland
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mister Widget. A sharp featured little man was doing most of the talking while
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his rival, a stout, clean shaven man with a slow, ox like
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eye, looked on stolidly. Mister Miller was seldom in a hurry and lost
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many a bargain through his slowness, a fact which sometimes so painfully affected the
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individual who had outdistanced him that he would offer to let him have it at
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a still lower figure. You get younger than ever, missus pullan, said
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Widget, the conversation having turned upon ages. Young ain't the word for it,
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said Miller, with a praiseworthy determination not to be left behind. No,
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it's age as you're thinking of, mister Widget, said the carpenter slowly.
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None of us gets younger, do we? Anne? Some of us
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keeps young in our ways, said missus, pulling somewhat shortly. How old
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should you say Anne is now, persisted the watchful tigger. Mister Widget shook
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his head. I should say she's about fifteen years younger nor me, he
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said, slowly, And I'm as lively as a cricket. She's fifty five,
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said the carpenter. That makes you seventy, widget, said mister Miller
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pointedly. I thought you was more than that. You'll look it, mister
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Widget coughed, sourly. I'm fifty nine, he growled. Nothin ll make
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me believe as missus Pulland's fifty five, nor anywhere near it. Hope,
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said the carpenter on his medal. Hope. Why my wife here was the
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sixth child, and she he caught a gleam in the sixth child's eye and
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expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had finished,
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and mister Tidger, noticing this, coughed again. And she prompted mister
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Miller, displaying a polite interest. She ain't so young as she was,
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said the carpenter. Cares of a family, said mister Widget, plumping boldly.
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I always thought missus Polland was younger than her, So did I,
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said mister Miller, much younger. Mister Widget eyed him sharply. It was
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rather hard to have Miller hiding his lack of invention by participating in his compliments
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and even improving upon them. It was the way he dealt at market,
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listening to other dealers accounts of their wares and adding to them for his own.
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I was noticin' you the other day, ma'am, continued mister Widget.
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I see you goin up the road with a step free an easy as a
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young girl's she allus walks like that, said mister Miller, in a tone
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of surprised reproof. It's in the family, said the carpenter, who had
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been uneasily watching his wife's face. Both of you seemed to notice a lot,
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said missus Tigger, much more than you used to. Mister Tigger,
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who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed again. You ought to
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take something for that cough, said mister Widget. Considerately. Gin An beer,
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said mister Miller, with the air of a specialist. Bed's the best
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thing for it, said missus Tigger, whose temper was beginning to show signs
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of getting out of hand. Mister Tigger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors.
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Mister Widget got up and, pretending to notice the time, said he
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must be going, and looked at mister Miller. That gentleman, who was
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apparently deep in some knotty problem, was gazing at the floor and oblivious for
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the time to his surroundings. Come along, said Widget, with feigned heartiness,
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slapping him on the back. Mister Miller, looking for a moment as
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though he would like to return the compliment, came back to every day life,
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and, bidding the company good night, stepped to the door, accompanied
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by his rival. It was immediately shut with some violence. They seem in
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a hurry, said Widget, I don't think I shall go there again.
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I don't think I shall, said mister Miller. After this, neither of
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them was surprised to meet there again the next night, and indeed for several
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nights. The carpenter and his wife, who did not want the money to
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go out of the family, and were also afraid of offending Missus Pulland,
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were at their wits end what to do. Ultimately, it was resolved that
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Tiggure, in as delicate a manner as possible, was to hint to her
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that they were after her money. He was so vague and so delicate that
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Missus Pulland misunderstood him, and, fancying that he was trying to borrow half
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a crown, made him a present of five shillings. It was evident to
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the slower going mister Miller that his rival's tongue was giving him an advantage which
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only the ever watchful presence of the carpenter and his wife prevented him from pushing
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to the fullest advantage in these circumstances. He sat for two hours after breakfast
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one morning in deep cogitation, and after six pipes, got up with a
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twinkle in his slow eyes, which his brother dealers had got to regard as
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a danger signal. He had only the glimmering of an idea at first,
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but after a couple of pints at the bell, everything took shape, and
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he cast his eyes about for an assistant. They fell upon a man named
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Smith, and the dealer, after some thought, took up his glass and
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went over to him. I want you to do somethin fer me, he
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remarked, in a mysterious voice. Ah, I've been wantin to see you,
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said Smith, who was also a dealer in a small way. One
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of them hens I bought off you last week is dead. I'll give you
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another for it, said Miller. An the others are so forgetful, continued
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mister Smith. Forgetful, repeated the other forget to lay like, said mister
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Smith musingly. Never mind about them, said mister Miller, with some animation.
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I want you to do something for me. If it comes off all
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right, I'll give you a dozen hens. An a couple of decent tish
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sized pigs, mister Smith called a halt. Decent tish sized was vague.
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Take your pick, said mister Miller. You know, missus Pullan's got two
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thousand pounds. Widget's goin to have it, said the other. He as
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good as told me so he's after her money, said the other sadly,
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look ere Smith, I want you to tell him she's lost at all.
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Say that Tidger told you, but you wasn't to tell anybody else. Widget'll
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believe you. Mister Smith turned upon him, a face all wrinkles, lit
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by one eye. I want the hens and the pigs first, he said
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firmly. Mister Miller, shocked at his grasping spirit, stared at him mournfully.
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An twenty pounds the day you marry missus Pulland continued mister Smith. Mister
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Miller, leading him up and down the sawdust floor, besought him to listen
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to reason, and mister Smith allowed the better feelings of our common human nature
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to prevail to the extent of reducing his demands to half a dozen fowls on
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account, and all the rest on the day of the marriage. Then,
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with the delightful feeling that he wouldn't do any work for a week. He
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went out to drop poison into the ears of mister Widget. Lost all her
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money, said the startled mister Widget. How, I don't know how,
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said his friend. Tigger told me, but made me promise not to tell
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us all. But I couldn't help telling you, Widget, cause I know
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it you're after. Do me a favor, said the little man. I
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will, said the other, keep it from Miller as long as possible.
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If you hear anyone else talkin of it, tell him to keep it from
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him. If he marries her, I'll give you a couple of pints.
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Mister Smith promised faithfully, and both the Tiggers and Missus Pullan were surprised to
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find that mister Miller was the only visitor that evening. He spoke but little,
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and that little, in a slow, ponderous voice intended for Missus Pullan's
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ear alone. He spoke disparagingly of money, and shook his head slowly at
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the temptations it brought in its train. Give him a crust, he said,
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and somebody to have it with a homemade crust baked by a wife.
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It was a pretty picture, but somewhat spoiled by Missus Tigger's suggesting that though
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he had spoken of having the crust, he had said nothing about the beer.
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Half of my beer wouldn't be much, said the dealer slowly. Not
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the half you would give your wife wouldn't, retorted Missus Tae. The dealer
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sighed and looked mournfully at Missus Pullan. The lady sighed in return, and,
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finding that her admirer's stock of conversation seemed to be exhausted, coyly suggested
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a game of droughts. The dealer assented with eagerness, and declining the offer
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of a glass of beer by explaining that he had had one the day before
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yesterday, sat down and lost seven games right off. He gave up at
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the seventh game, and, pushing back his chair, said that he thought
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Missus Pullan was the most wonderful drop player he had ever seen, and took
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no notice when Missus Tidger, in a dry voice charged with subtle meaning,
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said that she thought he was. Droughts come natural to some people, said
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Missus pulland modestly, it's as easy as kissing your fingers. Mister Miller looked
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doubtful. Then he put his great fingers to his lips by way of experiment,
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and let them fall unmistakably in the widow's direction. Missus Pullan looked down
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and nearly bluffs. The carpenter and his wife eyed each other in indignant consternation.
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That's easy enough, said the dealer, and repeated the offense. Missus
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Pullan got up in some confusion and began to put the drought board away.
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One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they both stooped to
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recover it, their heads bumped. It was nothing to the dealer's, but
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Missus Pullan rubbed hers and sat down with her eyes watering. Mister Miller took
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out his handkerchief, and, going to the scullery, dipped it into water
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and held it to her head. Is it better, he inquired? A
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little better, said the victim, with a shiver. Mister Miller, in
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his emotion, was squeezing the handkerchief hard, and a cold stream was running
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down her neck. Thank you, it's all right now. The dealer replaced
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the handkerchief and sat for some time, regarding her earnestly. Then the carpenter
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and his wife, displaying manifest signs of impatience. He took his departure after
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first inviting himself for another game of drafts the following night. He walked home
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with the air of a conqueror and thought exultingly that the two thousand pounds were
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his. It was a deal after his own heart, and not the least
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satisfactory part about it was the way he had got the better of Widget.
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He completed his scheme the following day after a short interview with the useful smith.
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By the afternoon, Widget found that his exclusive information was common property and
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all Thatcham was marveling at the fortitude with which Missus Pullan was bearing the loss
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of her fortune, with a view of being out of the way when the
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denial was published, mister Miller, after loudly expressing in public his sympathy for
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Missus Pullan and his admiration of her qualities, drove over with some pigs to
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a neighboring village, returning to Thatcham in the early evening, then, hurriedly
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putting his horse up, he made his way to the carpenter's. The Tiggers
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were at home when he entered, and Missus Pullan blushed faintly as he shook
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hands. I was comin in before, he said, impressively, after what
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I heard this afternoon, but I had to drive over to Thorpe. You
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heard it, inquired the carpenter, in an incredulous voice. Certainly, said
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the dealer, and very sorry. I was sorry for one thing, but
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glad for another. The carpenter opened his mouth and seemed about to speak.
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Then he checked himself suddenly and gazed with interest at the ingenuous dealer. I'm
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glad, said mister Miller, slowly, as he nodded at a friend of
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Missus Tidgers, who had just come in with a long face, Because now
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that missus Pullan is poor, I can say to her what I couldn't say
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while she was rich. Again, the astonished carpenter was about to speak,
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but the dealer hastily checked him with his hand. One at a time.
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He said, Missus Pullan, I was very sorry to hear this afternoon for
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your that you had lost all your money. What I wanted to say to
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you now, now that you are poor, was to ask you to be
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missus Miller. What d'y say, Missus Pullan, touched at so much goodness,
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wept softly and said yes. The triumphant Miller took out his handkerchief,
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the same that he had used the previous night, for he was not an
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extravagant man, and tenderly wiped her eyes. Well, I'm blowed, said
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the staring carpenter. I've got a nice little house, continued the wily mister
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Miller. It's a poor place, but nice, and we'll play drafts every
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evenin'. When shall it be when you like, said Missus Pullan in a
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faint voice. I'll put the bands up tomorrow, said the dealer. Missus
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Tigger's lady friend giggled at so much haste, but Missus Tigger, who felt
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that she had misjudged him, was touched. It does you credit, mister
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Miller, she said warmly. No, no, said the dealer, and
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then mister Tidger got up and, crossing the room, solemnly shook hands with
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him. Money or no money. She'll make a good wife, he said.
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I'm glad you're pleased, said the dealer, wondering at this cordiality.
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I don't deny. I thought you was after her money, continued the carpenter.
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Solemnly, My missus thought so too. Mister Miller shook his head and
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said he thought they would have known him better. Of course, it is
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a great loss, said the carpenter. Money is money, That's all it
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is, though, said the slightly mystified mister Miller. What I can't understand
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is, continued the carpenter. Aw the news got out. Why the neighbors
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knew of it a couple of hours before we did? The dealer hit a
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grin. Then he looked a bit bewildered. Again, I assure you,
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said the carpenter. It was known in the town at least a couple of
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hours before we got the letter. Mister Miller waited a minute to get perfect
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control over his features. Letter, he repeated, faintly, the letter from
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the lawyers, said the carpenter. Mister Miller was silent again. His features
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were getting tiresome. He eyed the door furtively. What was in the letter?
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He asked, Short and sweet, said the carpenter, with bitterness,
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said it was all a mistake, because they'd been and found another will.
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People shouldn't make such mistakes. We're all liable to make mistakes, said Miller,
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thinking he saw an opening. Yes, we made a mistake when we
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thought you was after Anne's money, assented the carpenter, I'm sure I thought
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you'd be the last man in the world to be pleased to hear that she'd
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lost it. One thing is you've got enough for both. Mister Miller made
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no reply, but in a dazed way, strove to realize the full measure
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of the misfortune which had befallen him. The neighbor, with the anxiety of
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her sex to the first with a bit of news, had already taken her
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departure. He thought of Widget walking the earth a free man, and of
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Smith with a three months bill for twenty pounds. His pride as a dealer
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was shattered beyond repair, and emerging from a species of mist, he became
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conscious that the carpenter was addressing him. We'll leave you two young things alone
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for a bit, said mister Tidger. Heartily. We're goin out, and
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when you're tired, o court and you can play drafts, and Anne will
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show you one or two of her moves. So long. End of section eleven.