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The Madness of Mr. Lister Captains All, Book 9. By: W. W. Jacobs (1863-1943) |
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By W.W. Jacobs THE MADNESS OF MR. LISTER [Illustration: "The Madness of Mr. Lister."] Old Jem Lister, of the Susannah, was possessed of two devils the love
of strong drink and avarice and the only thing the twain had in common
was to get a drink without paying for it. When Mr. Lister paid for a
drink, the demon of avarice masquerading as conscience preached a
teetotal lecture, and when he showed signs of profiting by it, the demon
of drink would send him hanging round public house doors cadging for
drinks in a way which his shipmates regarded as a slur upon the entire
ship's company. Many a healthy thirst reared on salt beef and tickled
with strong tobacco had been spoiled by the sight of Mr. Lister standing
by the entrance, with a propitiatory smile, waiting to be invited in to
share it, and on one occasion they had even seen him (him, Jem Lister,
A.B.) holding a horse's head, with ulterior motives. It was pointed out to Mr. Lister at last that his conduct was reflecting
discredit upon men who were fully able to look after themselves in that
direction, without having any additional burden thrust upon them. Bill
Henshaw was the spokesman, and on the score of violence (miscalled
firmness) his remarks left little to be desired. On the score of
profanity, Bill might recall with pride that in the opinion of his
fellows he had left nothing unsaid. "You ought to ha' been a member o' Parliament, Bill," said Harry Lea,
when he had finished. "It wants money," said Henshaw, shaking his head. Mr. Lister laughed, a senile laugh, but not lacking in venom. "That's what we've got to say," said Henshaw, turning upon him suddenly.
"If there's anything I hate in this world, it's a drinking miser. You
know our opinion, and the best thing you can do is to turn over a new
leaf now." "Take us all in to the Goat and Compasses," urged Lea; "bring out some o'
those sovrins you've been hoarding." Mr. Lister gazed at him with frigid scorn, and finding that the
conversation still seemed to centre round his unworthy person, went up on
deck and sat glowering over the insults which had been heaped upon him.
His futile wrath when Bill dogged his footsteps ashore next day and
revealed his character to a bibulous individual whom he had almost
persuaded to be a Christian from his point of view bordered upon the
maudlin, and he wandered back to the ship, wild eyed and dry of throat. For the next two months it was safe to say that every drink he had he
paid for. His eyes got brighter and his complexion clearer, nor was
he as pleased as one of the other sex might have been when the
self satisfied Henshaw pointed out these improvements to his companions,
and claimed entire responsibility for them. It is probable that Mr.
Lister, under these circumstances, might in time have lived down his
taste for strong drink, but that at just that time they shipped a new
cook. He was a big, cadaverous young fellow, who looked too closely after his
own interests to be much of a favourite with the other men forward. On
the score of thrift, it was soon discovered that he and Mr. Lister had
much in common, and the latter, pleased to find a congenial spirit, was
disposed to make the most of him, and spent, despite the heat, much of
his spare time in the galley. "You keep to it," said the greybeard impressively; "money was made to be
took care of; if you don't spend your money you've always got it. I've
always been a saving man what's the result?" The cook, waiting some time in patience to be told, gently inquired what
it was. "'Ere am I," said Mr. Lister, good naturedly helping him to cut a
cabbage, "at the age of sixty two with a bank book down below in my
chest, with one hundered an' ninety pounds odd in it." "One 'undered and ninety pounds!" repeated the cook, with awe. "To say nothing of other things," continued Mr. Lister, with joyful
appreciation of the effect he was producing. "Altogether I've got a
little over four 'undered pounds... Continue reading book >>
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Fiction |
Humor |
Literature |
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