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Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2449, 13 March 1909, Page 10 (Supplement)

Mrs Tucker: “Tommy, what makes you so late ?” . Tommy: “Had some words with the teacher, and she kept me in after school.”

Mrs Tucker: “You had words with the teacher?”

Tommy: “Yes’ni. I couldn’t spell ’em.”

. A FAIR COP. Captain Pilcher stepped out of the gates, looking by no means happy. And, indeed, he wasn’t. It had been a disastrous voyage—if only from Hu. 1 , to Antwerp and back again, the, Pelican had got stuck in the mud on tho Scheldt; ho had been able to load her with nothing better than a couple of hundred tons of old cable on tho return journey; and lie had just discovered that the expense of landing them on the wharf would actually leave him out of pocket on the transaction. Ho walked along gloomily, until 1:« arrived at the Seven Kings, wliert he s could rely uiion finding a friend or two j to share I.is woes. As-things fell out, j indeed, there was only one of the -five . or six loungers at the saloon bar, who t did not greet him with a shout of j welcome. And even this one’s pointed i chin and foxy eyes did not seem entirely strange, although the name of Chobb, to bo sure, awakentd no .particular associations in tho mind of Captain Pilcher. However, Mr Chobb had evidently heard of Captain Pilcher . for not only did ho tieat him with profound respect, but as soon as etiquette would allow, requested old Johnny Cross, the landlord, to replenish his glass. Ho had been cook’s mate in the P. and 0., he made no bones of admitting; but whatever caste lie lost by the confession be regained by the practical proof that his present circumstances permitted him to stand drinks all round as often as he chose. The conversation turned on smuggling, and Mr Chobb had many an interesting yarn to relate. “The artfullest cove I ever come across,” said he, “was the cook I served under on Olive- ’L couldn . >avo stowed away the stuff better if •’ed bin partners with Maskolyn an Cook— Vy the very dus’ bin’ ’ad a false bottom to it!” . . The company grinned, but Captain Pilcher observed sedately that that sort of thing didn’t pay nowadays. Apparently thero was something funny in the remark, for everybody burst out laughing—except Mr Chobb. “Them’s the very words, Cap n,” ho ■assented effusively, “old Bloomy was alius ’ammerin’ into me. ‘Never mind me,’ sez ’e. ‘l’ve growed up that way an 5 I can’t- change it now. bides, sez ’e, ‘tain’t as if I made a brass fardm out on it —on’y I alius fancy os tlio clooty leaves a nasty flavor m tho mouth.’ ” f “Hear, hear!” cried tho master ot a Grimsbv fishing smack. “Shut "up, Peter!” growled Captain Pilcher, looking round suspiciously. ~, , “Oh, we’re all fren’s ’ere!” remarked Mr Chobb confidentially. “At least, I ’one so?” The others reassured him that anybody who denied it would be a liai, and he went on :

“Well, on my last trip but one witn old Bloomy we ’adn’t got into Tilbury, when ! o rushes into the galley like hiad, an’ collars ’old of our biggest fish-kittle. ‘Wot’s up?’ sez l,' m the middle o’ makin’ a pie. You should ’ave ’eard ’im swear —somebody 'ad bin an’ give the game away! Yell, there wasn’t no time to lose, ’e grains ’old o’ the five pounds o’ Borneo bacca in the kittle and bangs it into my clean pie-dish! Then ’e collars old o Jniy ’arf-rolled paste an’ shoves it on top and stows the ’ole blessed lot in the oven! Two minutes after, down comes a Custom ’ouse bloke a-grm-nin’ like onerclook an’ looks in the kittle an’ turns ’is ’ead inside the oven, but of course ’© never dreams o’ lookin’ inside the pie ! The audience gavo unmistakable expression to their sympathies, and even Captain Pilcher thawed visibly. “I reckon they had their eyes on that chap after that?” he commented. “You bet!” chuckled Air Chobb. “The yarn got about —old Bloomy never was one to keeii a quiet tongue in ’is ’ead—an’ the Revenue officer got ’is life pretty nigh chaffed out of ’im. The best of the joke was that next time wo come along there was also a pie in the oven. ‘Wot’s that ?\ sez ’e. ‘Ain’t ye got eyes in yer ed; sez Bloomy. ‘A piel’ —‘I’ve ’ad some o yer pies afore!’ sez ’e, an’ I’m bio wed if ’o don’t git a knife and cut into it! There wasn’t notliink-inside but apples this time, an’ old Bloomy coinplained to the cap’n an’ there vasnt ’arf a row!”

Captain Pilcher laughed louder than any of them. “Serve ’em jolly well right!” said he. “I’ll wager you could tell us a yarn, of two to beat it, eh, Cap’ll.? chimed in old Johnny Cross.

“We—ell,” drawled the other with a slight falling of his right eyelid, “p’raps I could —an’ p’raps I couldn’t!”

The rest eyed him expectantly, and all at once he flung caution to the winds. Whether the liquor had loosened his tongue or whether he knew his hearers could be implicitly trusted in a moment he had let the cat out of the hag: - “Five pounds of bacca! Pooli!” he sneered. “I wonder what he’d ha vs said to my little lot this journey!” “’Ow much?” asked Mr Chobb with bated breath.

“Five hundredweight!” he blurted out. / At this there was something of a sensation. Fivo hundred, weight! That was a large order theso days; They shook their heads incredulously.

“How did you git it through?” queried Peter. “Give a chap a chance!” cried the Captain in an aggrieved tone. “J. ain’t been ashore five minutes. The stuff’s just where it was, of course.”

“Where’s that?” asked Mr Chobb indifferently.

Captain Pilcher put his fingers to his nose. “.Where you can’t get. at it—nor nobody else!”

Mr Chobb,. took his rebuff goodhumouredly. He . only shrugged liis shoulders and filled the Captain’s glass again. This won the sailor’s heart. “I’ll tell you,” he'whispered maudlinly: “In the hold I”

Mr Chobb’s face fell. “I ain’t much wiser than I was before,” he confessed. “But’s it’s a million to one they’ll spot it pretty quick!” “I’ll take you on in quids!” offered the other banging his glass down upon the counter. “Look hero!” he went on magnanimously. “You come aboard in the morning, and a’l you can spot I’ll make you a preamt of. For why?”

Neither Mr Chobb lior anyone else could venture to assign any likely explanation of this generous offer.

“’Cause there’s two hundred and fifty tons of old cable on topi” grinned the Captain; but before lie could go into further details, a stentorian voico reminded them that-it was now closing time, and they had to make a move. Mr Chobb was kind enough to see his new friend as far as the Docks, and as they strolled arm-in-arm through the town he expressed a desire to seo a good deal more of him in the near future. The Captain heartily reciprocated his affection, and ore they parted made him promise faithfully to pay him a visit in the morning and have a look round the “Pelican.”

- He faithfully kept liis promise. Moreover, ho brought two other friends with him. And all three wore the uniform of the Inland Revenue!

“Got you this time, Cap’n!” said he with complete change of manner and speech. “Let’s have a look at that little pipeful of your’s, if you don’t mind!”

Captain Pilcher glared fiercely a* him, and muttered something about a mean skunk.

“Biz is biz,” said his friend apologetically. “Come, where’s the swag? We’ve had pur eye on you for a loug time, and it’s a fair cop!” “Go and do your own dirty work!” growled tlie Captain sullenly. “You’ll get no help from me!” “All right!” the other shrugged his shoulders, and led his men below. It was not very long before he led them up again. The hold was crammed full of iron cable, and there was no getting at anything underneath. And the only suggestion of tobacco he came across was an empty four-ounce tin. “When might you be going to un- • 4oad, Cap’n?” be asked in a casual sort of way. “That’s my business!” retorted the other gruffly, turning his back on him. There was nothing to be done, but to leave an officer on board. But Captain Pilcher made no sign. The next day the same scene was repeated and the next. Finally, Mr Chobb lost patience. “We’ll have that stuff up on deck!” said he.

“You’ll do nothing of til© sort!” swore the Captain. “I’m not going to have my ship sent to the bottom for all the dirty spies in creation and there’s not half room enough on deck, besides 1” And then, in sheer desperation, Mr Chobh had a brilliant idea. The haul would be big enough to warrant the expense of unloading the cargo, and putting it out on the wharf. Captain Pilcher disdained to move a foot to interfere, but sat himself do-fl n, and smoked his pipe, and watched them curiously. At last the hold was emptied —but not a whiff of tobacco could they find! Mr Chobb raved, stormed, threatened, entreated. But it was no go. And at last he threw up the sponge. “But did you really have any bacca on board?” he asked humbly. * “As if I didn’t .spot your little .game at the Seven Kings!’” winked the Captain, clapping his hand on the other’s shoulder. “But a thousand thanks for unloading the stuff : You’ve made my ex’s for me this journey !