The Money-Box Page #2

"The Money-Box" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous short story centered around a man named Mr. J. P. Jobson, who obsessively saves money in a locked box. The tale unfolds as Jobson's desire for financial security leads to a series of comical misunderstandings and situations, highlighting themes of greed and the folly of over-cautiousness. Jacobs skillfully weaves wit and irony throughout the narrative, making it a delightful exploration of human nature and our relationship with money.

• Humour
• Short story

								

fist shot out and give ’im a drive that sent ’im spinning across the
room until ’e fell in a heap in the fireplace. It was like a kick from
a ’orse, and Peter looked very serious as ’e picked ’im up and dusted
’im down.

“You should keep your eye on ’is fist,” he ses, sharply.

It was a silly thing to say, seeing that that was just wot ’ad
’appened, and Ginger told ’im wot ’e’d do for ’im when ’e’d finished
with Isaac. He went at the old man agin, but ’e never ’ad a chance, and
in about three minutes ’e was very glad to let Peter ’elp ’im into bed.

“It’s your turn to fight him now, Peter,” he ses. “Just move this
piller so as I can see.”

“Come on, lad,” ses the old man.

Peter shook ’is ’ead. “I have no wish to ’urt you, Isaac,” he ses,
kindly; “excitement like fighting is dangerous for an old man. Give us
our money and we’ll say no more about it.”

“No, my lads,” ses Isaac. “I’ve undertook to take charge o’ this money
and I’m going to do it; and I ’ope that when we all sign on aboard the
Planet there’ll be a matter o’ twelve pounds each left. Now, I don’t
want to be ’arsh with you, but I’m going back to bed, and if I ’ave to
get up and dress agin you’ll wish yourselves dead.”

He went back to bed agin, and Peter, taking no notice of Ginger Dick,
who kept calling ’im a coward, got into bed alongside of Ginger and
fell fast asleep.

They all ’ad breakfast in a coffee-shop next morning, and arter it was
over Ginger, who ’adn’t spoke a word till then, said that ’e and Peter
Russet wanted a little money to go on with. He said they preferred to
get their meals alone, as Isaac’s face took their appetite away.

“Very good,” ses the old man. “I don’t want to force my company on
nobody,” and after thinking ’ard for a minute or two he put ’is ’and in
’is trouser-pocket and gave them eighteen-pence each.

“That’s your day’s allowance,” ses Isaac, “and it’s plenty. There’s
ninepence for your dinner, fourpence for your tea, and twopence for a
crust o’ bread and cheese for supper. And if you must go and drown
yourselves in beer, that leaves threepence each to go and do it with.”

Ginger tried to speak to ’im, but ’is feelings was too much for ’im,
and ’e couldn’t. Then Peter Russet swallered something ’e was going to
say and asked old Isaac very perlite to make it a quid for ’im
because he was going down to Colchester to see ’is mother, and ’e
didn’t want to go empty-’anded.

“You’re a good son, Peter,” ses old Isaac, “and I wish there was more
like you. I’ll come down with you, if you like; I’ve got nothing to
do.”

Peter said it was very kind of ’im, but ’e’d sooner go alone, owing to
his mother being very shy afore strangers.

“Well, I’ll come down to the station and take a ticket for you,” ses
Isaac.

Then Peter lost ’is temper altogether, and banged ’is fist on the table
and smashed ’arf the crockery. He asked Isaac whether ’e thought ’im
and Ginger Dick was a couple o’ children, and ’e said if ’e didn’t give
’em all their money right away ’e’d give ’im in charge to the first
policeman they met.

“I’m afraid you didn’t intend for to go and see your mother, Peter,”
ses the old man.

“Look ’ere,” ses Peter, “are you going to give us that money?”

“Not if you went down on your bended knees,” ses the old man.

“Very good,” says Peter, getting up and walking outside; “then come
along o’ me to find a policeman.”

“I’m agreeable,” ses Isaac, “but I’ve got the paper you signed.”

Peter said ’e didn’t care twopence if ’e’d got fifty papers, and they
walked along looking for a policeman, which was a very unusual thing
for them to do.

“I ’ope for your sakes it won’t be the same policeman that you and
Ginger Dick set on in Gun Alley the night afore you shipped on the
Planet,” ses Isaac, pursing up ’is lips.

“’Tain’t likely to be,” ses Peter, beginning to wish ’e ’adn’t been so
free with ’is tongue.

“Still, if I tell ’im, I dessay he’ll soon find ’im,” ses Isaac;
“there’s one coming along now, Peter; shall I stop ’im?”

Peter Russet looked at ’im and then he looked at Ginger, and they
walked by grinding their teeth. They stuck to Isaac all day, trying to
get their money out of ’im, and the names they called ’im was a
surprise even to themselves. And at night they turned the room
topsy-turvy agin looking for their money and ’ad more unpleasantness
when they wanted Isaac to get up and let ’em search the bed.

They ’ad breakfast together agin next morning and Ginger tried another
tack. He spoke quite nice to Isaac, and ’ad three large cups o’ tea to
show ’im ’ow ’e was beginning to like it, and when the old man gave ’em
their eighteen-pences ’e smiled and said ’e’d like a few shillings
extra that day.

“It’ll be all right, Isaac,” he ses. “I wouldn’t ’ave a drink if you
asked me to. Don’t seem to care for it now. I was saying so to you on’y
last night, wasn’t I, Peter?”

“You was,” ses Peter; “so was I.”

“Then I’ve done you good, Ginger,” ses Isaac, clapping ’im on the back.

“You ’ave,” ses Ginger, speaking between his teeth, “and I thank you
for it. I don’t want drink; but I thought o’ going to a music-’all this
evening.”

“Going to wot?” ses old Isaac, drawing ’imself up and looking very
shocked.

“A music-’all,” ses Ginger, trying to keep ’is temper.

“A music-’all,” ses Isaac; “why, it’s worse than a pub, Ginger. I
should be a very poor friend o’ yours if I let you go there—I couldn’t
think of it.”

“Wot’s it got to do with you, you gray-whiskered serpent?” screams
Ginger, arf mad with rage. “Why don’t you leave us alone? Why don’t you
mind your own business? It’s our money.”

Isaac tried to talk to ’im, but ’e wouldn’t listen, and he made such a
fuss that at last the coffee-shop keeper told ’im to go outside. Peter
follered ’im out, and being very upset they went and spent their day’s
allowance in the first hour, and then they walked about the streets
quarrelling as to the death they’d like old Isaac to ’ave when ’is time
came.

They went back to their lodgings at dinner-time; but there was no sign
of the old man, and, being ’ungry and thirsty, they took all their
spare clothes to a pawnbroker and got enough money to go on with. Just
to show their independence they went to two music-’alls, and with a
sort of idea that they was doing Isaac a bad turn they spent every
farthing afore they got ’ome, and sat up in bed telling ’im about the
spree they’d ’ad.

At five o’clock in the morning Peter woke up and saw, to ’is surprise,
that Ginger Dick was dressed and carefully folding up old Isaac’s
clothes. At first ’e thought that Ginger ’ad gone mad, taking care of
the old man’s things like that, but afore ’e could speak Ginger noticed
that ’e was awake, and stepped over to ’im and whispered to ’im to
dress without making a noise. Peter did as ’e was told, and, more
puzzled than ever, saw Ginger make up all the old man’s clothes in a
bundle and creep out of the room on tiptoe.

“Going to ’ide ’is clothes?” ’e ses.

“Yes,” ses Ginger, leading the way downstairs; “in a pawnshop. We’ll
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