ash, up across the river. Afore I went to sea there was a maid
livin' next door to us that wanted to marry me. Well, when she found
I wasn't to be had, she picked up with a fellow from the Victualling
Yard and married he, and came down to Dock to live. Man's name was
Babbage, and they hadn't been married six months afore he tumbled
into a brine-vat and was drowned. 'That's one narrow escape to me,'
I said. Next news I had was a letter telling me she'd a boy born,
and please would I stand godfather? I didn't like to say no, out of
respect to her family. So I wrote home from Gibraltar that I was
agreeable, only it must be done by proxy and she mustn't make it no
precedent. That must be ten years back; and what with one thing and
another I never set eyes 'pon mother or child till yesterday when--
having to run down to Dock to order Bill's grave--I thought 'twould
be neighbourly to drop 'em a visit. I found the boy growed to be a
terrible plain child, about the size of this youngster. I didn't
like the boy at all. So I says to his mother, 'I s'pose he's
clever?'--for dang it! thinks I, he must be clever to make up for
being so plain-featured as all that. 'Benjy'--she'd a-called him
Benjamin after me--'Benjy's the cleverest child for his age that ever
you see,' she says. 'Why,' says she, 'he'll pitch-to and make up a
rhyme 'pon anything!' 'Can he so?' I says, pulling a great
crown-piece out of my pocket (not that I liked the cut of his jib,
but the woman had been hinting about my being his godfather):
'Now, my lad, let's see if you're so gifted as your mother makes out.
There's a sojer now passin' the window. Make a rhyme 'pon he, and
you shall have the money.' What d'ye think that ghastly boy did?
'Aw, that's easy,' he says--"

'Sojer, sojer,
Diddy, diddy, dodger!'

"'Now hand me over the money,' he says. I could have slapped his
ear."

Almost as he ended his simple story, the procession came to a halt:
the strains of _Tom Bowling_ changed into noisy--and, on the part of
the ladies, very unladylike--expostulations. Mr. Jope started
forward and leaned out of the window.

"I think," said the Rev. Mr. Whitmore, "we have arrived at the
toll-gate."

"D'ye mean to say the sharks want to take toll on Bill?"

"Likely enough."

"On Bill? And him a-going to his long home? Here--hold hard!"
Mr. Jope leapt out into the roadway and disappeared.

Upon us two, left alone in the coach, there fell