"I fancy I shall call it 'The Story of
a Ship.'"
"I think the idea's pretty good; but you won't he able to handle it for ever
so long. Now I--"
"Would it be of any use to you? Would you care to take it? I should be proud,"
said Charlie, promptly.
There are few things sweeter in this world than the guileless, hot-headed,
intemperate, open admiration of a junior. Even a woman in her blindest
devotion does not fall into the gait of the man she adores, tilt her bonnet to
the angle at which he wears his hat, or interlard her speech with his pet
oaths. And Charlie did all these things. Still it was necessary to salve my
conscience before I possessed myself of Charlie's thoughts.
"Let's make a bargain. I'll give you a fiver for the notion," I said.
Charlie became a bank-clerk at once.
"Oh, that's impossible. Between two pals, you know, if I may call you so, and
speaking as a man of the world, I couldn't. Take the notion if it's any use to
you. I've heaps more."
He had--none knew this better than I--but they were the notions of other men.
"Look at it as a matter of business--between men of the world," I returned.
"Five pounds will buy you any number of poetry-books. Business is business,
and you may be sure I shouldn't give that price unless--"
"Oh, if you put it that way," said Charlie, visibly moved by the thought of
the books.
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