A Safety Match Page #2

"A Safety Match" by W. W. Jacobs is a short story that blends humor and suspense. It follows the tale of a man who finds himself embroiled in a peculiar situation concerning a mysterious package and a safety match. As he navigates through misunderstandings and comedic twists, the story ultimately highlights themes of human folly and the unpredictability of everyday life. Jacobs' clever use of dialogue and character development adds to the charm of this engaging narrative.

• Fiction

								


“Aye, we’ll have to do what we talked about,” said Boom slowly. “It’s
opposition what that gal wants. She simply sits and mopes for the want
of somebody to contradict her.”

“Well, why don’t you do it?” said Raggett, “That ain’t much for a
father to do surely.”

“I hev,” said the other slowly, “more than once. O’ course, when I
insist upon a thing, it’s done; but a woman’s a delikit creetur,
Raggett, and the last row we had she got that ill that she couldn’t get
up to get my breakfast ready, no, nor my dinner either. It made us both
ill, that did.”

“Are you going to tell Tarrell?” inquired Raggett.

“No,” said his friend. “Like as not he’d tell her just to curry favour
with her. I’m going to tell him he’s not to come to the house no more.
That’ll make her want him to come, if anything will. Now there’s no use
wasting time. You begin to-day.”

“I don’t know what to say,” murmured Rag-gett, nodding to him as he
raised the beer to his lips.

“Just go now and call in—you might take her a nosegay.”

“I won’t do nothing so darned silly,” said Raggett shortly.

“We’ll, go without ’em,” said Boom impatiently; “just go and get
yourselves talked about, that’s all—have everybody making game of both
of you. Talking about a good-looking young girl being sweethearted by
an old chap with one foot in the grave and a face like a dried herring.
That’s what I want.”

Mr. Raggett, who was just about to drink, put his mug down again and
regarded his friend fixedly.

“Might I ask who you’re alloodin’ too?” he inquired somewhat shortly.

Mr. Boom, brought up in mid-career, shuffled a little and laughed
uneasily. “Them ain’t my words, old chap,” he said; “it was the way she
was speaking of you the other day.”

“Well, I won’t have nothin’ to do with it,” said Raggett rising.

“Well, nobody needn’t know anything about it,” said Boom, pulling him
down to his seat again. “She won’t tell, I’m sure—she wouldn’t like the
disgrace of it.”

“Look here,” said Raggett getting up again.

“I mean from her point of view,” said Mr. Boom querulously; “you’re
very ’asty, Raggett.”

“Well, I don’t care about it,” said Raggett slowly; “it seemed all
right when we was talking about it; but s’pose I have all my trouble
for nothing, and she don’t take Dick after all? What then?”

“Well, then there’s no harm done,” said his friend, “and it’ll be a bit
o’ sport for both of us. You go up and start, an’ I’ll have another
pint of beer and a clean pipe waiting for you against you come back.”

Sorely against his better sense Mr. Raggett rose and went off,
grumbling. It was fatiguing work on a hot day, climbing the road up the
cliff, but he took it quietly, and having gained the top, moved slowly
towards the cottage.

“Morning, Mr. Raggett,” said Kate cheerily, as he entered the cottage.
“Dear, dear, the idea of an old man like you climbing about! It’s
wonderful.”

“I’m sixty-seven,” said Mr. Raggett viciously, “and I feel as young as
ever I did.”

“To be sure,” said Kate soothingly; “and look as young as ever you did.
Come in and sit down a bit.”

Mr. Raggett with some trepidation complied, and sitting in a very
upright position, wondered how he should begin. “I am just
sixty-seven,” he said slowly. “I’m not old and I’m not young, but I’m
just old enough to begin to want somebody to look after me a bit.”

“I shouldn’t while I could get about if I were you,” said the innocent
Kate. “Why not wait until you’re bed-ridden?”

“I don’t mean that at all,” said Mr. Raggett snappishly. “I mean I’m
thinking of getting married.”

“Good—gracious!” said Kate open-mouthed.

“I may have one foot in the grave, and resemble a dried herring in the
face,” pursued Mr. Raggett with bitter sarcasm, “but——”

“You can’t help that,” said Kate gently.

“But I’m going to get married,” said Raggett savagely.

“Well, don’t get in a way about it,” said the girl. “Of course, if you
want to, and—and—you can find somebody else who wants to, there’s no
reason why you shouldn’t! Have you told father about it?”

“I have,” said Mr. Raggett, “and he has given his consent.”

He put such meaning into this remark and so much more in the contortion
of visage which accompanied it, that the girl stood regarding him in
blank astonishment.

“His consent?” she said in a strange voice.

Mr. Raggett nodded.

“I went to him first,” he said, trying to speak confidently. “Now I’ve
come to you—I want you to marry me!”

“Don’t you be a silly old man, Mr. Raggett,” said Kate, recovering her
composure. “And as for my father, you go back and tell him I want to
see him.”

She drew aside and pointed to the door, and Mr. Raggett, thinking that
he had done quite enough for one day, passed out and retraced his steps
to the “Jolly Sailor.” Mr. Boom met him half-way, and having received
his message, spent the rest of the morning In fortifying himself for
the reception which awaited him.

It would be difficult to say which of the two young people was the more
astonished at this sudden change of affairs. Miss Boom, affecting to
think that her parent’s reason was affected treated him accordingly, a
state of affairs not without its drawbacks, as Mr. Boom found out.
Tarrell, on the other hand, attributed it to greed, and being forbidden
the house, spent all his time ashore on a stile nearly opposite, and
sullenly watched events.

For three weeks Mr. Raggett called daily, and after staying to tea,
usually wound up the evening by formally proposing for Kate’s hand.
Both conspirators were surprised and disappointed at the quietness with
which Miss Boom received these attacks; Mr. Raggett meeting with a
politeness which was a source of much wonder to both of them.

His courting came to an end suddenly. He paused one evening with his
hand on the door, and having proposed in the usual manner was going
out, when Miss Boom called him back.

“Sit down, Mr. Raggett,” she said calmly. Mr. Raggett, wondering
inwardly, resumed his seat.

“You have asked me a good many times to marry you,” said Kate.

“I have,” said Mr. Raggett, nodding.

“And I’m sure it’s very kind of you,” continued the girl, “and if I’ve
hurt your feelings by refusing you, it is only because I have thought
perhaps I was not good enough for you.”

In the silence which followed this unexpected and undeserved tribute to
Mr. Raggett’s worth, the two old men eyed each other in silent
consternation.

“Still, if you’ve made up your mind,” continued the girl, “I don’t know
that it’s for me to object. You’re not much to look at, but you’ve got
the loveliest chest of drawers and the best furniture all round in
Mastleigh. And I suppose you’ve got a little money?”

Mr. Raggett shook his head, and in a broken voice was understood to
say: “A very little.”

“I don’t want any fuss or anything of that kind,” said Miss Boom
calmly. “No bridesmaids or anything of that sort; it wouldn’t be
suitable at your age.”

Mr. Raggett withdrew his pipe, and holding it an inch or two from his
mouth, listened like one in a dream.
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