doing since they saw 'im last.

"Fancy your reckernizing his foot," ses Mrs. Finch, coming in with the
change.

"I'd know it anywhere," ses Peter, who was watching Ginger pretending to
give Sam Small the 'arf-dollar, and Sam pretending in a most lifelike
manner to take it.

Ginger Dick looked round the room. It was a comfortable little place,
with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs, and a row
of pink vases on the mantelpiece. Then 'e looked at Mrs. Finch, and
thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.

"This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty, troublesome
sailormen to look arter, Captin Small," he ses.

"It's wonderful the way he manages 'em," ses Peter Russet to Mrs. Finch.
"Like a lion he is."

"A roaring lion," ses Ginger, looking at Sam. "He don't know wot fear
is."

Sam began to smile, and Mrs. Finch looked at 'im so pleased that Peter
Russet, who 'ad been looking at 'er and the room, and thinking much the
same way as Ginger, began to think that they was on the wrong tack.

"Afore 'e got stout and old," he ses, shaking his 'ead, "there wasn't a
smarter skipper afloat."