The Rival Beauties Page #2

"The Rival Beauties" by W. W. Jacobs is a humorous novella that explores themes of love, jealousy, and rivalry through the antics of two charming yet competing women. Set against the backdrop of a quaint seaside village, the story delves into the lives and interactions of its colorful characters, revealing the lengths to which they will go to impress their romantic interests. Jacobs’s witty prose and keen observations of human nature create an entertaining and lighthearted narrative that highlights the complexities of attraction and the folly of rivalry.

• Fiction

								

in alive and show him at a sovereign a head. Anyway, we can take in his
carcase if we manage it properly.’

“‘By Jove! if we only could,’ ses the skipper, getting excited too.

“‘We can try,’ ses the mate. ‘Why, we could have noosed it this mornin’
if we had liked; and if it breaks the lines we must blow its head to
pieces with the gun.’

“It seemed a most eggstraordinary thing to try and catch it that way;
but the beast was so tame, and stuck so close to us, that it wasn’t
quite so ridikilous as it seemed at fust.

“Arter a couple o’ days nobody minded the animal a bit, for it was
about the most nervous thing of its size you ever saw. It hadn’t got
the soul of a mouse; and one day when the second mate, just for a lark,
took the line of the foghorn in his hand and tooted it a bit, it flung
up its ’ead in a scared sort o’ way, and, after backing a bit, turned
clean round and bolted.

“I thought the skipper ’ud have gone mad. He chucked over loaves o’
bread, bits o’ beef and pork, an’ scores o’ biskits, and by-and-bye,
when the brute plucked up heart an’ came arter us again, he fairly
beamed with joy. Then he gave orders that nobody was to touch the horn
for any reason whatever, not even if there was a fog, or chance of
collision, or anything of the kind; an’ he also gave orders that the
bells wasn’t to be struck, but that the bosen was just to shove ’is
’ead in the fo’c’s’le and call ’em out instead.

“Arter three days had passed, and the thing was still follering us,
everybody made certain of taking it to New York, an’ I b’leeve if it
hadn’t been for Joe Cooper the question about the sea-sarpint would ha’
been settled long ago. He was a most eggstraordinary ugly chap was Joe.
He had a perfic cartoon of a face, an’ he was so delikit-minded and
sensitive about it that if a chap only stopped in the street and
whistled as he passed him, or pointed him out to a friend, he didn’t
like it. He told me once when I was symperthizing with him, that the
only time a woman ever spoke civilly to him was one night down Poplar
way in a fog, an’ he was so ’appy about it that they both walked into
the canal afore he knew where they was.

“On the fourth morning, when we was only about three days from Sandy
Hook, the skipper got out o’ bed wrong side, an’ when he went on deck
he was ready to snap at anybody, an’ as luck would have it, as he
walked a bit forrard, he sees Joe a-sticking his phiz over the side
looking at the sarpint.

“‘What the d—— are you doing?’ shouts the skipper, ‘What do you mean by
it?’

“‘Mean by what, sir?’ asks Joe.

“‘Putting your black ugly face over the side o’ the ship an’
frightening my sea-sarpint!’ bellows the skipper, ‘You know how easy
it’s skeered.’

“‘Frightening the sea-sarpint?’ ses Joe, trembling all over, an’
turning very white.

“‘If I see that face o’ yours over the side agin, my lad,’ ses the
skipper very fierce, ‘I’ll give it a black eye. Now cut!’

“Joe cut, an’ the skipper, having worked off some of his ill-temper,
went aft again and began to chat with the mate quite pleasant like. I
was down below at the time, an’ didn’t know anything about it for hours
arter, and then I heard it from one o’ the firemen. He comes up to me
very mysterious like, an’ ses, ‘Bill,’ he ses, ‘you’re a pal o’ Joe’s;
come down here an’ see what you can make of ’im.’

“Not knowing what he meant, I follered ’im below to the engine-room,
an’ there was Joe sitting on a bucket staring wildly in front of ’im,
and two or three of ’em standing round looking at ’im with their ’eads
on one side.

“‘He’s been like that for three hours,’ ses the second engineer in a
whisper, ‘dazed like.’

“As he spoke Joe gave a little shudder; ‘Frighten the sea-sarpint!’ ses
he, ‘O Lord!’

“‘It’s turned his brain,’ ses one o’ the firemen, ‘he keeps saying
nothing but that.’

“‘If we could only make ’im cry,’ ses the second engineer, who had a
brother what was a medical student, ‘it might save his reason. But how
to do it, that’s the question.’

“‘Speak kind to ’im, sir,’ ses the fireman. ‘I’ll have a try if you
don’t mind.’ He cleared his throat first, an’ then he walks over to Joe
and puts his hand on his shoulder an’ ses very soft an’ pitiful like:

“‘Don’t take on, Joe, don’t take on, there’s many a ugly mug ’ides a
good ’art,’

“Afore he could think o” anything else to say, Joe ups with his fist
an’ gives ’im one in the ribs as nearly broke ’em. Then he turns away
’is ’ead an’ shivers again, an’ the old dazed look come back.

“‘Joe,’ I ses, shaking him, ‘Joe!’

“‘Frightened the sea-sarpint!’ whispers Joe, staring.

“‘Joe,’ I ses, ‘Joe. You know me, I’m your pal, Bill.’

“‘Ay, ay,’ ses Joe, coming round a bit.

“‘Come away,’ I ses, ‘come an’ git to bed, that’s the best place for
you.’

“I took ’im by the sleeve, and he gets up quiet an’ obedient and
follers me like a little child. I got ’im straight into ’is bunk, an’
arter a time he fell into a soft slumber, an’ I thought the worst had
passed, but I was mistaken. He got up in three hours’ time an’ seemed
all right, ’cept that he walked about as though he was thinking very
hard about something, an’ before I could make out what it was he had a
fit.

“He was in that fit ten minutes, an’ he was no sooner out o’ that one
than he was in another. In twenty-four hours he had six full-sized
fits, and I’ll allow I was fairly puzzled. What pleasure he could find
in tumbling down hard and stiff an’ kicking at everybody an’ everything
I couldn’t see. He’d be standing quiet and peaceable like one minute,
and the next he’d catch hold o’ the nearest thing to him and have a bad
fit, and lie on his back and kick us while we was trying to force open
his hands to pat ’em.

“The other chaps said the skipper’s insult had turned his brain, but I
wasn’t quite so soft, an’ one time when he was alone I put it to him.

“‘Joe, old man,’ I ses, ‘you an’ me’s been very good pals.’

“‘Ay, ay,’ ses he, suspicious like.

“‘Joe,’ I whispers, ‘what’s yer little game?’

“‘Wodyermean?’ ses he, very short.

“‘I mean the fits,’ ses I, looking at ’im very steady, ‘It’s no good
looking hinnercent like that, ’cos I see yer chewing soap with my own
eyes.’

“‘Soap,’ ses Joe, in a nasty sneering way, ‘you wouldn’t reckernise a
piece if you saw it.’

“Arter that I could see there was nothing to be got out of ’im, an’ I
just kept my eyes open and watched. The skipper didn’t worry about his
fits, ’cept that he said he wasn’t to let the sarpint see his face when
he was in ’em for fear of scaring it; an’ when the mate wanted to leave
him out o’ the watch, he ses, ‘No, he might as well have fits while at
work as well as anywhere else.’

“We were about twenty-four hours from port, an’ the sarpint was still
following us; and at six o’clock in the evening the officers puffected
all their arrangements for ketching the creetur at eight o’clock next
morning. To make quite sure of it an extra watch was kept on deck all
night to chuck it food every half-hour; an’ when I turned in at ten
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