“Eh?” ses old Cook, staring at ’im.  “Why, that ain’t the place.  Why, you wouldn’t get that for eight ’undred.”

“Well, I don’t think much of it,” ses Charlie; “if it’s worse than that I can’t look at it—­I can’t, indeed.”

“You ain’t been drinking, Charlie?” ses old Cook, in a puzzled voice.

“Certainly not,” ses Charlie.

He was pleased to see ’ow anxious they all looked, and when they did come to the shop ’e set up a laugh that old Cook said chilled the marrer in ’is bones.  He stood looking in a ‘elpless sort o’ way at his wife and Emma, and then at last he ses, “There it is; and a fair bargain at the price.”

“I s’pose you ain’t been drinking?” ses Charlie.

“Wot’s the matter with it?” ses Mrs. Cook flaring up.

“Come inside and look at it,” ses Emma, taking ’old of his arm.

“Not me,” ses Charlie, hanging back.  “Why, I wouldn’t take it at a gift.”

He stood there on the kerbstone, and all they could do ’e wouldn’t budge.  He said it was a bad road and a little shop, and ’ad got a look about it he didn’t like.  They walked back ’ome like a funeral procession, and Emma ’ad to keep saying “H’s!” in w’ispers to ’er mother all the way.

[Illustration:  “He said it was a had road and a little shop, and ’ad got a look about it he didn’t like.”]

“I don’t know wot Charlie does want, I’m sure,” ses Mrs. Cook, taking off ’er bonnet as soon as she got indoors and pitching it on the chair he was just going to set down on.

“It’s so awk’ard,” ses old Cook, rubbing his ’cad.  “Fact is, Charlie, we pretty near gave ’em to understand as we’d buy it.”

“It’s as good as settled,” ses Mrs. Cook, trembling all over with temper.

“They won’t settle till they get the money,” ses Charlie.  “You may make your mind easy about that.”

“Emma’s drawn it all out of the bank ready,” ses old Cook, eager like.

Charlie felt ’ot and cold all over.  “I’d better take care of it,” he ses, in a trembling voice.  “You might be robbed.”

“So might you be,” ses Mrs. Cook.  “Don’t you worry; it’s in a safe place.”

“Sailormen are always being robbed,” ses George Smith, who ’ad been helping young Bill with ’is sums while they ’ad gone to look at the shop.  “There’s more sailormen robbed than all the rest put together.”

“They won’t rob Charlie,” ses Mrs. Cook, pressing ’er lips together.  “I’ll take care o’ that.”

Charlie tried to laugh, but ’e made such a queer noise that young Bill made a large blot on ’is exercise-book, and old Cook, wot was lighting his pipe, burnt ’is fingers through not looking wot ’e was doing.

“You see,” ses Charlie, “if I was robbed, which ain’t at all likely, it ’ud only be me losing my own money; but if you was robbed of it you’d never forgive yourselves.”

“I dessay I should get over it,” ses Mrs. Cook, sniffing.  “I’d ’ave a try, at all events.”