Miss Miller sighed. “It’s too bad,”
she said, slowly; “perhaps you wouldn’t
look so foolish if—”
“If what?” inquired the other, after a
long pause.
“If,” said Miss Miller, looking down,
“if—if—”
Mr. Gale started and trembled violently, as a wild
idea, born of her blushes, occurred to him.
“If,” he said, in quivering tones, “if—if—”
“Go on,” said the girl, softly. “Why,
I got as far as that: and you are a man.”
Mr. Gale’s voice became almost inaudible.
“If we got married, do you mean?” he said,
at last.
“Married!” exclaimed Miss Miller, starting
back a full two inches. “Good gracious!
the man is mad after all.”
The bitter and loudly expressed opinion of Mr. Wragg
when he returned an hour later was that they were
both mad.
[Illustration: THE DREAMER]
Dreams and warnings are things I don’t believe
in, said the night watchman. The only dream I
ever ’ad that come anything like true was once
when I dreamt I came in for a fortune, and next morning
I found half a crown in the street, which I sold to
a man for fourpence. And once, two days arter
my missis ’ad dreamt she ’ad spilt a cup
of tea down the front of ‘er Sunday dress, she
spoilt a pot o’ paint of mine by sitting in
it.
The only other dream I know of that come true happened
to the cook of a bark I was aboard of once, called
the Southern Belle. He was a silly, pasty-faced
sort o’ chap, always giving hisself airs about
eddication to sailormen who didn’t believe in
it, and one night, when we was homeward-bound from
Sydney, he suddenly sat up in ’is bunk and laughed
so loud that he woke us all up.
“Wot’s wrong, cookie?” ses one o’
the chaps.
“I was dreaming,” ses the cook, “such
a funny dream. I dreamt old Bill Foster fell
out o’ the foretop and broke ’is leg.”
“Well, wot is there to laugh at in that?”
ses old Bill, very sharp.
“It was funny in my dream,” ses the cook.
“You looked so comic with your leg doubled up
under you, you can’t think. It would ha’
made a cat laugh.”
Bill Foster said he’d make ’im laugh the
other side of his face if he wasn’t careful,
and then we went off to sleep agin and forgot all about
it.
If you’ll believe me, on’y three days
arterwards pore Bill did fall out o’ the foretop
and break his leg. He was surprised, but I never
see a man so surprised as the cook was. His eyes
was nearly starting out of ’is head, but by
the time the other chaps ’ad picked Bill up and
asked ’im whether he was hurt, cook ’ad
pulled ’imself together agin and was giving
himself such airs it was perfectly sickening.
“My dreams always come true,” he ses.
“It’s a kind o’ second sight with
me. It’s a gift, and, being tender-’arted,
it worries me terrible sometimes.”
He was going on like that, taking credit for a pure
accident, when the second officer came up and told
’em to carry Bill below. He was in agony,
of course, but he kept ’is presence of mind,
and as they passed the cook he gave ’im such
a clip on the side of the ’ead as nearly broke
it.
