was George Smith, and 'e used to bring bits out o' newspapers and read to
'em, showing 'ow silly people was done out of their money.

On the fourth night Charlie dropped it and made 'imself so amiable that
Mrs. Cook stayed up and made 'im a Welsh rare-bit for 'is supper, and
made 'im drink two glasses o' beer instead o' one, while old Cook sat and
drank three glasses o' water just out of temper, and to show that 'e
didn't mind. When she started on the chandler's shop agin Charlie said
he'd think it over, and when 'e went away Mrs. Cook called 'im her
sailor-boy and wished 'im pleasant dreams.

But Charlie Tagg 'ad got better things to do than to dream, and 'e sat up
in bed arf the night thinking out a new plan he'd thought of to get that
money. When 'e did fall asleep at last 'e dreamt of taking a little farm
in Australia and riding about on 'orseback with the Sydney gal watching
his men at work.

In the morning he went and hunted up a shipmate of 'is, a young feller
named Jack Bates. Jack was one o' these 'ere chaps, nobody's enemy but
their own, as the saying is; a good-'arted, free-'anded chap as you could
wish to see. Everybody liked 'im, and the ship's cat loved 'im. He'd
ha' sold the shirt off 'is back to oblige a pal, and three times in one
week he got 'is face scratched for trying to prevent 'usbands knocking
their wives about.

Charlie Tagg went to 'im because he was the only man 'e could trust, and
for over arf an hour he was telling Jack Bates all 'is troubles, and at
last, as a great favour, he let 'im see the Sydney gal's photygraph, and
told him that all that pore gal's future 'appiness depended upon 'im.