hing me, I set off for the
Commercial Road as hard as I could go.

"I'm not so young as I was. It was a warm evening, and I 'adn't got even
a bus fare on me. I 'ad to walk all the way, and, by the time I got
there, I was 'arf melted. It was a tidy-sized shop, with three or four
nice-looking gals behind the counter, and things like babies' high chairs
for the customers to sit onlong in the leg and ridikerlously small in the
seat. I went up to one of the gals and told Per I wanted to see Mr.
Watson.

"'On private business,' I ses. 'Very important.'

"She looked at me for a moment, and then she went away and fetched a
tall, bald-headed man with grey side-whiskers and a large nose.

"'Wot d'you want?" he ses, coming up to me.

I want a word with you in private,' I ses.

"'This is private enough for me,' he ses. 'Say wot you 'ave to say, and
be quick about it.'

"I drawed myself up a bit and looked at him. 'P'r'aps you ain't missed
'im yet,' I ses.

"'Missed 'im?' he ses, with a growl. 'Missed who?'

"'Your-son. Your blue-eyed son,' I ses, looking 'im straight in the eye.

"'Look here!' he ses, spluttering. 'You be off. 'Ow dare you come here
with your games? Wot d'ye mean by it?'

"'I mean,' I ses, getting a bit out o' temper, 'that your boy has run
away to go to sea, and I've come to take you to 'im.'

"He seemed so upset that I thought 'e was going to 'ave a fit at fust,
and it seemed only natural, too. Then I see that the best-looking girl
and another was having a fit, although trying 'ard not to.

"'If you don't get out o' my shop,' he ses at last, 'I'll 'ave you locked
up.'

"'Very good!' I ses, in a quiet way. 'Very good; but, mark my words,
if he's drownded you'll never forgive yourself as long as you live for
letting your temper get the better of you--you'll never know a good
night's rest agin. Besides, wot about 'is mother?'

"One o' them silly gals went off agin just like a damp firework, and Mr.
Watson, arter nearly choking 'imself with temper, shoved me out o' the
way and marched out o' the shop. I didn't know wot to make of 'im at
fust, and then one o' the gals told me that 'e was a bachelor and 'adn't
got no son, and that somebody 'ad been taking advantage of what she
called my innercence to pull my leg.

"'You toddle off 'ome,' she ses, 'before Mr. Watson comes back.'

"'It's a shame to let 'im come out alone,' ses one o' the other gals.
'Where do you live, gran'pa?'

"