d off, but arter waking him up very
sudden by dropping my glass on the floor I went off back to the wharf.

I locked up agin, and 'ad another look at the dock. The water 'ad nearly
gone and the mud was showing in patches. My mind went back to a
sailorman wot had dropped 'is watch over-board two years before, and
found it by walking about in the dock in 'is bare feet. He found it more
easy because the glass broke when he trod on it.

The evening was a trifle chilly for June, but I've been used to roughing
it all my life, especially when I was afloat, and I went into the office
and began to take my clothes off. I took off everything but my pants,
and I made sure o' them by making braces for 'em out of a bit of string.
Then I turned the gas low, and, arter slipping on my boots, went outside.

It was so cold that at fust I thought I'd give up the idea. The longer I
stood on the edge looking at the mud the colder it looked, but at last I
turned round and went slowly down the ladder. I waited a moment at the
bottom, and was just going to step off when I remembered that I 'ad got
my boots on, and I 'ad to go up agin and take 'em off.

I went down very slow the next time, and anybody who 'as been down an
iron ladder with thin, cold rungs, in their bare feet, will know why,
and I had just dipped my left foot in, when the wharf-bell rang.

I 'oped at fust that it was a runaway-ring, but it kept on, and the
longer it kept on, the worse it got. I went up that ladder agin and
called out that I was coming, and then I went into the office and just
slipped on my coat and trousers and went to the gate.

"Wot d'you want?" I ses, opening the wicket three or four inches and
looking out at a man wot was standing there.

"Are you old Bill?" he ses.

"I'm the watchman," I ses, sharp-like. "Wot d'you want?"

"Don't bite me!" he ses, purtending to draw back. "I ain't done no 'arm.
I've come round about that glass you smashed at the Bear's Head."

"Glass!" I ses, 'ardly able to speak.

"Yes, glass," he ses--"thing wot yer drink out of. The landlord says
it'll cost you a tanner, and 'e wants it now in case you pass away in
your sleep. He couldn't come 'imself cos he's got nobody to mind the
bar, so 'e sent me. Why! Halloa! Where's your boots? Ain't you afraid
o' ketching cold?"

"You clear off," I ses, shouting at him. "D'ye 'ear me? Clear off while
you're safe, and you tell the landlord that next time 'e insults me