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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Many Cargoes"

He then shook hands with him, and, clapping him on the back,
bawled lustily for the small boy who had opened the door.
"Pot o' stout, bottle o' gin, and two long pipes," said he, as the boy
came to the door and eyed the ex-pilot curiously.
At all these honest preparations for his welcome the heart of Jackson
grew faint within him.
"Well, I call it good of you to come all this way to see me," said the
captain, after the boy had disappeared; "but you always was warm-
hearted, Pepper. And how's the missis?"
"Shocking!" said Pepper, with a groan.
"Ill?" inquired the captain.
"Ill-tempered," said Pepper. "In fact, cap'n, I don't mind telling you,
she's killing me--slowly killing me!"
"Pooh!" said Crippen. "Nonsense! You don't know how to manage her!"
"I thought perhaps you could advise me," said the artful Pepper. "I said
to myself yesterday, 'Pepper, go and see Cap'n Crippen. What he don't
know about wimmen and their management ain't worth knowing! If there's
anybody can get you out of a hole, it's him. He's got the power, and,
what's more, he's got the will!'"
"What causes the temper?" inquired the captain, with his most judicial
air, as he took the liquor from his messenger and carefully filled a
couple of glasses.
"It's natural!" said his friend ruefully.


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