Night Watches eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 150 pages of information about Night Watches.

“I was just coming to see you,” he ses.

“We’re just off on business,” ses Ginger.

“I wasn’t going to stop,” ses the nevy; “my young lady just told me to step along and show uncle wot she has bought me.  A silver watch and chain and a gold ring.  Look at it!”

He held his ’and under Ginger’s nose, and Ginger stood there looking at it and opening and shutting ’is mouth like a dying fish.  Then he took Peter by the arm and led’im away while the nevy was opening ’is new watch and showing Sam the works.

“’Ow much did she get out of you, Peter?” ses Ginger, looking at ’im very hard.  “I don’t want any lies.”

“Three quid,” ses Peter, staring at ’im.

“Same ’ere,” ses Ginger, grinding his teeth.  “Did she give you a smack on the side of your face?”

“Wot—­are—­you—­talking about, Ginger?” ses Peter.

“Did she smack your face too?” ses Ginger.

“Yes,” ses Peter.


“They’re as like as two peas, him and ’is brother,” said the night-watchman, gazing blandly at the indignant face of the lighterman on the barge below; “and the on’y way I know this one is Sam is because Bill don’t use bad langwidge.  Twins they are, but the likeness is only outside; Bill’s ’art is as white as snow.”

He cut off a plug of tobacco, and, placing it in his cheek, waited expectantly.

“White as snow,” he repeated.

“That’s me,” said the lighterman, as he pushed his unwieldy craft from the jetty.  “I’ll tell Sam your opinion of ’im.  So long.”

The watchman went a shade redder than usual.  That’s twins all over, he said, sourly, always deceiving people.  It’s Bill arter all, and, instead of hurting ’is feelings, I’ve just been flattering of ’im up.

It ain’t the fust time I’ve ’ad trouble over a likeness.  I’ve been a twin myself in a manner o’ speaking.  It didn’t last long, but it lasted long enough for me to always be sorry for twins, and to make a lot of allowance for them.  It must be very ’ard to have another man going about with your face on ’is shoulders, and getting it into trouble.

It was a year or two ago now.  I was sitting one evening at the gate, smoking a pipe and looking at a newspaper I ’ad found in the office, when I see a gentleman coming along from the swing-bridge.  Well-dressed, clean-shaved chap ’e was, smoking a cigarette.  He was walking slow and looking about ’im casual-like, until his eyes fell on me, when he gave a perfect jump of surprise, and, arter looking at me very ’ard, walked on a little way and then turned back.  He did it twice, and I was just going to say something to ’im, something that I ’ad been getting ready for ’im, when he spoke to me.

“Good evening,” he ses.

“Good evening,” I ses, folding the paper over and looking at ’im rather severe.

Project Gutenberg
Night Watches from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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