The Guardian Angel

"The Guardian Angel" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous short story that revolves around a lighthearted and whimsical tale of an angel who intervenes during a critical moment in a man's life. The protagonist, faced with a dilemma, finds himself under the watchful eye of a celestial guardian who attempts to guide him through his troubles. Jacobs weaves themes of fate, morality, and the absurdity of life with his signature wit, delivering both entertainment and thoughtful reflection on human nature.

• Humour
• Short story

								
The night-watchman shook his head.  "I never met any of these phil--
philantherpists, as you call 'em," he said, decidedly.  "If I 'ad they
wouldn't 'ave got away from me in a hurry, I can tell you.  I don't say I
don't believe in 'em; I only say I never met any of 'em.  If people do
you a kindness it's generally because they want to get something out of
you; same as a man once--a perfick stranger--wot stood me eight
'arf-pints becos I reminded 'im of his dead brother, and then borrered
five bob off of me.

"O' course, there must be some kind-'arted people in the world--all men
who get married must 'ave a soft spot somewhere, if it's only in the
'ead--but they don't often give things away.  Kind-'artedness is often
only another name for artfulness, same as Sam Small's kindness to Ginger
Dick and Peter Russet.

"It started with a row.  They was just back from a v'y'ge and 'ad taken a
nice room together in Wapping, and for the fust day or two, wot with
'aving plenty o' money to spend and nothing to do, they was like three
brothers.  Then, in a little, old-fashioned public-'ouse down Poplar way,
one night they fell out over a little joke Ginger played on Sam.

"It was the fust drink that evening, and Sam 'ad just ordered a pot o'
beer and three glasses, when Ginger winked at the landlord and offered to
bet Sam a level 'arf-dollar that 'e wouldn't drink off that pot o' beer
without taking breath.  The landlord held the money, and old Sam, with a
'appy smile on 'is face, 'ad just taken up the mug, when he noticed the
odd way in which they was all watching him.  Twice he took the mug up and
put it down agin without starting and asked 'em wot the little game was,
but they on'y laughed.  He took it up the third time and started, and he
'ad just got about 'arf-way through when Ginger turns to the landlord and
ses--

"'Did you catch it in the mouse-trap,' he ses, 'or did it die of poison?'

"Pore Sam started as though he 'ad been shot, and, arter getting rid of
the beer in 'is mouth, stood there 'olding the mug away from 'im and
making such 'orrible faces that they was a'most frightened.

"'Wot's the matter with him?  I've never seen 'im carry on like that over
a drop of beer before,' ses Ginger, staring.

"'He usually likes it,' ses Peter Russet.

"'Not with a dead mouse in it,' ses Sam, trembling with passion.

"'Mouse?' ses Ginger, innercent-like.  'Mouse?  Why, I didn't say it was
in your beer, Sam.  Wotever put that into your 'ead?'

"'And made you lose your bet,' ses Peter.

"Then old Sam see 'ow he'd been done, and the way he carried on when the
landlord gave Ginger the 'arf-dollar, and said it was won fair and
honest, was a disgrace.  He 'opped about that bar 'arf crazy, until at
last the landlord and 'is brother, and a couple o' soldiers, and a
helpless cripple wot wos selling matches, put 'im outside and told 'im to
stop there.

"He stopped there till Ginger and Peter came out, and then, drawing
'imself up in a proud way, he told 'em their characters and wot he
thought about 'em.  And he said 'e never wanted to see wot they called
their faces agin as long as he lived.

"'I've done with you,' he ses, 'both of you, for ever.'

"'All right,' ses Ginger moving off.  'Ta-ta for the present.  Let's 'ope
he'll come 'ome in a better temper, Peter.'

"'Ome?' ses Sam, with a nasty laugh, "'ome?  D'ye think I'm coming back to
breathe the same air as you, Ginger?  D'ye think I want to be
suffocated?'

"He held his 'ead up very 'igh, and, arter looking at them as if they was
dirt, he turned round and walked off with his nose in the air to spend
the evening by 'imself.

"His temper kept him up for a time, but arter a while he 'ad to own up to
'imself that it was very dull, and the later it got the more he thought
of 'is nice warm bed.  The more 'e thought of it the nicer and warmer it
seemed, and, arter a struggle between his pride and a few 'arf-pints, he
got 'is good temper back agin and went off 'ome smiling.

"The room was dark when 'e got there, and, arter standing listening a
moment to Ginger and Peter snoring, he took off 'is coat and sat down on
'is bed to take 'is boots off.  He only sat down for a flash, and then he
bent down and hit his 'ead an awful smack against another 'ead wot 'ad
just started up to see wot it was sitting on its legs.

"He thought it was Peter or Ginger in the wrong bed at fust, but afore he
could make it out Ginger 'ad got out of 'is own bed and lit the candle.
Then 'e saw it was a stranger in 'is bed, and without saying a word he
laid 'old of him by the 'air and began dragging him out.

"'Here, stop that!' ses Ginger catching hold of 'im.  'Lend a hand 'ere,
Peter.'

"Peter lent a hand and screwed it into the back o' Sam's neck till he
made 'im leave go, and then the stranger, a nasty-looking little chap
with a yellow face and a little dark moustache, told Sam wot he'd like to
do to him.

"'Who are you?' ses Sam, 'and wot are you a-doing of in my bed?'

"'It's our lodger,' ses Ginger.

"'Your wot?' ses Sam, 'ardly able to believe his ears.

"'Our lodger,' ses Peter Russet.  'We've let 'im the bed you said you
didn't want for sixpence a night.  Now you take yourself off.'

"Old Sam couldn't speak for a minute; there was no words that he knew bad
enough, but at last he licks 'is lips and he ses, 'I've paid for that bed
up to Saturday, and I'm going to have it.'

"He rushed at the lodger, but Peter and Ginger got hold of 'im agin and
put 'im down on the floor and sat on 'im till he promised to be'ave
himself.  They let 'im get up at last, and then, arter calling themselves
names for their kind-'artedness, they said if he was very good he might
sleep on the floor.

"Sam looked at 'em for a moment, and then, without a word, he took off
'is boots and put on 'is coat and went up in a corner to be out of the
draught, but, wot with the cold and 'is temper, and the hardness of the
floor, it was a long time afore 'e could get to sleep.  He dropped off at
last, and it seemed to 'im that he 'ad only just closed 'is eyes when it
was daylight.  He opened one eye and was just going to open the other
when he saw something as made 'im screw 'em both up sharp and peep
through 'is eyelashes.  The lodger was standing at the foot o' Ginger's
bed, going through 'is pockets, and then, arter waiting a moment and
'aving a look round, he went through Peter Russet's.  Sam lay still mouse
while the lodger tip-toed out o' the room with 'is boots in his 'and, and
then, springing up, follered him downstairs.

"He caught 'im up just as he 'ad undone the front door, and, catching
hold of 'im by the back o' the neck, shook 'im till 'e was tired.  Then
he let go of 'im and, holding his fist under 'is nose, told 'im to hand
over the money, and look sharp about it.

"'Ye--ye--yes, sir,' ses the lodger, who was 'arf choked.

"Sam held out his 'and, and the lodger, arter saying it was only a little

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