I got out at last by playing a game on her.  I pertended to drop ’arf a dollar in the washus, and while she was busy on ’er hands and knees I went off as comfortable as you please.

I got into the office with it all right, and, just as it was getting dark, a cab drove up to the wharf and the actor-chap jumped out with a big leather bag.  I took ’im into the private office, and ’e was so ready with ’is money for the clothes that I offered to throw the sack in.

He changed into my clothes fust of all, and then, asking me to sit down in front of ’im, he took a looking-glass and a box out of ’is bag and began to alter ’is face.  Wot with sticks of coloured paint, and false eyebrows, and a beard stuck on with gum and trimmed with a pair o’ scissors, it was more like a conjuring trick than anything else.  Then ’e took a wig out of ’is bag and pressed it on his ’ead, put on the cap, put some black stuff on ’is teeth, and there he was.  We both looked into the glass together while ’e gave the finishing touches, and then he clapped me on the back and said I was the handsomest sailorman in England.

“I shall have to make up a bit ’eavier when I’m behind the floats,” he ses; “but this is enough for ’ere.  Wot do you think of the imitation of your voice?  I think I’ve got it exact.”

“If you ask me,” I ses, “it sounds like a poll-parrot with a cold in the ’ead.”

“And now for your walk,” he ses, looking as pleased as if I’d said something else.  “Come to the door and see me go up the wharf.”

I didn’t like to hurt ‘is feelings, but I thought I should ha’ bust.  He walked up that wharf like a dancing-bear in a pair of trousers too tight for it, but ’e was so pleased with ’imself that I didn’t like to tell ’im so.  He went up and down two or three times, and I never saw anything so ridikerlous in my life.

“That’s all very well for us,” he ses; “but wot about other people?  That’s wot I want to know.  I’ll go and ’ave a drink, and see whether anybody spots me.”

Afore I could stop ’im he started off to the Bull’s Head and went in, while I stood outside and watched ’im.

“‘Arf a pint o’ four ale,” he ses, smacking down a penny.

I see the landlord draw the beer and give it to ’im, but ’e didn’t seem to take no notice of ’im.  Then, just to open ’is eyes a bit, I walked in and put down a penny and asked for a ’arf-pint.

The landlord was just wiping down the counter at the time, and when I gave my order he looked up and stood staring at me with the wet cloth ’eld up in the air.  He didn’t say a word—­not a single word.  He stood there for a moment smiling at us foolish-like, and then ‘e let go o’ the beer-injin, wot ’e was ’olding in ’is left hand, and sat down heavy on the bar floor.  We both put our ’eads over the counter to see wot had ’appened to ’im, and ’e started making the most ’orrible noise I ’ave ever heard in my life.  I wonder it didn’t bring the fire-injins.  The actor-chap bolted out as if he’d been shot, and I was just thinking of follering ’im when the landlord’s wife and ’is two daughters came rushing out and asking me wot I ’ad done to him.