Friends in Need Page #3

"Friends in Need" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous short story that explores themes of friendship and human nature. Set in a coastal village, the narrative follows a group of friends as they navigate a series of misunderstandings and comical situations. The story captures Jacobs' signature wit and keen observations of social dynamics, ultimately reflecting on the complexities of loyalty and support among friends. Through lighthearted dialogue and engaging scenarios, Jacobs delivers both entertainment and commentary on the bonds that tie people together.

• Humour
• Short story

								

dreaming about 'im?"

"No; I'm a teetotaller," said the widow.

The two gentlemen exchanged glances, and Mr. Kidd, ever of an impulsive
nature, resolved to bring matters to a head.

"Wot would you do if Joe was to come in 'ere at this door?"  he asked.

"Scream the house down," said the widow, promptly.

"Scream--scream the 'ouse down?"  said the distressed Mr. Kidd.

Mrs. Gibbs nodded.  "I should go screaming, raving mad," she said, with
conviction.

"But--but not if 'e was alive!"  said Mr. Kidd.

"I don't know what you're driving at," said Mrs. Gibbs.  "Why don't you
speak out plain?  Poor Joe is drownded, you know that; you saw it all,
and yet you come talking to me about dreams and things."

Mr. Kidd bent over her and put his hand affectionately on her shoulder.
"He escaped," he said, in a thrilling whisper.  "He's alive and well."

"WHAT?" said Mrs. Gibbs, starting back.

"True as I stand 'ere," said Mr. Kidd; "ain't it, George?"

"Truer," said Mr. Brown, loyally.

Mrs. Gibbs leaned back, gasping.  "Alive!" she said.  "But 'ow?  'Ow can
he be?"

"Don't make such a noise," said Mr. Kidd, earnestly.  "Mind, if anybody
else gets to 'ear of it you'll 'ave to give that money back."

"I'd give more than that to get 'im back," said Mrs. Gibbs, wildly.  "I
believe you're deceiving me."

"True as I stand 'ere," asseverated the other.  "He's only a minute or
two off, and if it wasn't for you screaming I'd go out and fetch 'im in."

"I won't scream," said Mrs. Gibbs, "not if I know it's flesh and blood.
Oh, where is he?  Why don't you bring 'im in?  Let me go to 'im."

"All right," said Mr. Kidd, with a satisfied smile at Mr. Brown; "all in
good time.  I'll go and fetch 'im now; but, mind, if you scream you'll
spoil everything."

He bustled cheerfully out of the room and downstairs, and Mrs. Gibbs,
motioning Mr. Brown to silence, stood by the door with parted lips,
waiting.  Three or four minutes elapsed.

"'Ere they come," said Mr. Brown, as footsteps sounded on the stairs.
"Now, no screaming, mind!"

Mrs. Gibbs drew back, and, to the gratification of all concerned, did not
utter a sound as Mr. Kidd, followed by her husband, entered the room.
She stood looking expectantly towards the doorway.

"Where is he?"  she gasped.

"Eh?"  said Mr. Kidd, in a startled voice.  "Why here.  Don't you know
'im?"

"It's me, Susan," said Mr. Gibbs, in a low voice.

"Oh, I might 'ave known it was a joke," cried Mrs. Gibbs, in a faint
voice, as she tottered to a chair.  "Oh,'ow cruel of you to tell me my
pore Joe was alive!  Oh, 'ow could you?"

"Lor' lumme," said the incensed Mr. Kidd, pushing Mr. Gibbs forward.
"Here he is.  Same as you saw 'im last, except for 'is whiskers.  Don't
make that sobbing noise; people'll be coming in."

"Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  Take 'im away," cried Mrs. Gibbs.  "Go and play your
tricks with somebody else's broken 'art."

"But it's your husband," said Mr. Brown.

"Take 'im away," wailed Mrs. Gibbs.

Mr. Kidd, grinding his teeth, tried to think.  "'Ave you got any marks on
your body, Joe?"  he inquired.

"I ain't got a mark on me," said Mr. Gibbs with a satisfied air, "or a
blemish.  My skin is as whi--"

"That's enough about your skin," interrupted Mr. Kidd, rudely.

"If you ain't all of you gone before I count ten," said Mrs. Gibbs, in a
suppressed voice, "I'll scream.  'Ow dare you come into a respectable
woman's place and talk about your skins?  Are you going?  One!  Two!
Three!  Four!  Five!"

Her voice rose with each numeral; and Mr. Gibbs himself led the way
downstairs, and, followed by his friends, slipped nimbly round the
corner.

"It's a wonder she didn't rouse the whole 'ouse," he said, wiping his
brow on his sleeve; "and where should we ha' been then?  I thought at the
time it was a mistake you making me 'ave my whiskers off, but I let you
know best.  She's never seen me without 'em.  I 'ad a remarkable strong
growth when I was quite a boy.  While other boys was--"

"Shut-up!"  vociferated Mr. Kidd.

"Sha'n't!"  said Mr. Gibbs, defiantly.  "I've 'ad enough of being away
from my comfortable little 'ome and my wife; and I'm going to let 'em
start growing agin this very night.  She'll never reckernize me without
'em, that's certain."

"He's right, Bob," said Mr. Brown, with conviction.

"D'ye mean to tell me we've got to wait till 'is blasted whiskers grow?"
cried Mr. Kidd, almost dancing with fury.  "And go on keeping 'im in
idleness till they do?"

"You'll get it all back out o' my share," said Mr. Gibbs, with dignity.
"But you can please yourself.  If you like to call it quits now, I don't
mind."

Mr. Brown took his seething friend aside, and conferred with him in low
but earnest tones.  Mr. Gibbs, with an indifferent air, stood by
whistling softly.

"'Ow long will they take to grow?"  inquired Mr. Kidd, turning to him
with a growl.

Mr. Gibbs shrugged his shoulders.  "Can't say," he replied; "but I should
think two or three weeks would be enough for 'er to reckernize me by.  If
she don't, we must wait another week or so, that's all."

"Well, there won't be much o' your share left, mind that," said Mr. Kidd,
glowering at him.

"I can't help it," said Mr. Gibbs.  "You needn't keep reminding me of
it."

They walked the rest of the way in silence; and for the next fortnight
Mr. Gibbs's friends paid nightly visits to note the change in his
appearance, and grumble at its slowness.

"We'll try and pull it off to-morrow night," said Mr. Kidd, at the end of
that period.  "I'm fair sick o' lending you money."

Mr. Gibbs shook his head and spoke sagely about not spoiling the ship for
a ha'porth o' tar; but Mr. Kidd was obdurate.

"There's enough for 'er to reckernize you by," he said, sternly, "and we
don't want other people to.  Meet us at the Monument at eight o'clock
to-morrow night, and we'll get it over."

"Give your orders," said Mr. Gibbs, in a nasty voice.

"Keep your 'at well over your eyes," commanded Mr. Kidd, sternly.  "Put
them spectacles on wot I lent you, and it wouldn't be a bad idea if you
tied your face up in a piece o' red flannel."

"I know wot I'm going to do without you telling me," said Mr. Gibbs,
nodding.  "I'll bet you pots round that you don't either of you
reckernize me tomorrow night."

The bet was taken at once, and from eight o'clock until ten minutes to
nine the following night Messrs. Kidd and Brown did their best to win it.
Then did Mr. Kidd, turning to Mr. Brown in perplexity, inquire with many
redundant words what it all meant.

"He must 'ave gone on by 'imself," said Mr. Brown.  "We'd better go and
see."

In a state of some disorder they hurried back to Wapping, and, mounting
the stairs to Mrs. Gibbs's room, found the door fast.  To their fervent
and repeated knocking there was no answer.

"Ah, you won't make her 'ear," said a woman, thrusting an untidy head

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