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Bill Chambers gave a 'owl that was dreadful to listen to, and then 'e pushed the conjurer away and started undressing 'imself as fast as he could move 'is fingers. I believe he'd ha' taken off 'is shirt if it 'ad 'ad pockets in it, and then 'e stuck 'is feet close together and 'e kept jumping into the air, and coming down on to 'is own clothes in his hobnailed boots.
"He ain't fond o' dumb animals, then," ses the conjurer. Then he put his 'and on his 'art and bowed.
"Gentlemen all," he ses. "'Aving given you this specimen of wot I can do, I beg to give notice that with the landlord's kind permission I shall give my celebrated conjuring entertainment in the tap-room this evening at seven o'clock; ad-mission, three-pence each."
They didn't understand 'im at fust, but at last they see wot 'e meant, and arter explaining to Bill, who was still giving little jumps, they led 'im up into a corner and coaxed 'im into dressing 'imself agin. He wanted to fight the conjurer, but 'e was that tired 'e could scarcely stand, and by-and-by Smith, who 'ad said 'e wouldn't 'ave anything to do with it, gave way and said he'd risk it.
The tap-room was crowded that night, but we all 'ad to pay threepence each-coining money, I call it. Some o' the things wot he done was very clever, but a'most from the fust start-off there was unpleasantness.
When he asked somebody to lend 'im a pocket-'andkercher to turn into a white rabbit, Henery Walker rushed up and lent 'im 'is, but instead of a white rabbit it turned into a black one with two white spots on it, and arter Henery Walker 'ad sat for some time puzzling over it 'e got up and went off 'ome without saying good-night to a soul.
Then the conjurer borrowed Sam Jones's hat, and arter looking into it for some time 'e was that surprised and astonished that Sam Jones lost 'is temper and asked 'im whether he 'adn't seen a hat afore.
"Not like this," ses the conjurer. And 'e pulled out a woman's dress and jacket and a pair o' boots. Then 'e took out a pound or two o' taters and some crusts o' bread and other things, and at last 'e gave it back to Sam Jones and shook 'is head at 'im, and told 'im if he wasn't very careful he'd spoil the shape of it.
Then 'e asked somebody to lend 'im a watch, and, arter he 'ad promised to take the greatest care of it, d.i.c.ky Weed, the tailor, lent 'im a gold watch wot 'ad been left 'im by 'is great-aunt when she died. d.i.c.ky Weed thought a great deal o' that watch, and when the conjurer took a flat-iron and began to smash it up into little bits it took three men to hold 'im down in 'is seat.
"This is the most difficult trick o' the lot," ses the conjurer, picking off a wheel wot 'ad stuck to the flat-iron. "Sometimes I can do it and sometimes I can't. Last time I tried it it was a failure, and it cost me eighteenpence and a pint o' beer afore the gentleman the watch 'ad belonged to was satisfied. I gave 'im the bits, too."
"If you don't give me my watch back safe and sound," ses d.i.c.ky Weed, in a trembling voice, "it'll cost you twenty pounds."
"'Ow much?" ses the conjurer, with a start. "Well, I wish you'd told me that afore you lent it to me. Eighteenpence is my price."
He stirred the broken bits up with 'is finger and shook his 'ead.
"I've never tried one o' these old-fashioned watches afore," he ses.
"'Owever, if I fail, gentle-men, it'll be the fust and only trick I've failed in to-night. You can't expect everything to turn out right, but if I do fail this time, gentlemen, I'll try it agin if anybody else'll lend me another watch."
d.i.c.ky Weed tried to speak but couldn't, and 'e sat there, with 'is face pale, staring at the pieces of 'is watch on the conjurer's table. Then the conjurer took a big pistol with a trumpet-shaped barrel out of 'is box, and arter putting in a charge o' powder picked up the pieces o'
watch and rammed them in arter it. We could hear the broken bits grating agin the ramrod, and arter he 'ad loaded it 'e walked round and handed it to us to look at.
"It's all right," he ses to d.i.c.ky Weed; "it's going to be a success; I could tell in the loading."
He walked back to the other end of the room and held up the pistol.
"I shall now fire this pistol," 'e ses, "and in so doing mend the watch.
The explosion of the powder makes the bits o' gla.s.s join together agin; in flying through the air the wheels go round and round collecting all the other parts, and the watch as good as new and ticking away its 'ardest will be found in the coat-pocket o' the gentleman I shoot at."
He pointed the pistol fust at one and then at another, as if 'e couldn't make up 'is mind, and none of 'em seemed to 'ave much liking for it.
Peter Gubbins told 'im not to shoot at 'im because he 'ad a 'ole in his pocket, and Bill Chambers, when it pointed at 'im, up and told 'im to let somebody else 'ave a turn. The only one that didn't flinch was Bob Pretty, the biggest poacher and the greatest rascal in Claybury. He'd been making fun o' the tricks all along, saying out loud that he'd seen 'em all afore-and done better.
"Go on," he ses; "I ain't afraid of you; you can't shoot straight."
The conjurer pointed the pistol at 'im. Then 'e pulled the trigger and the pistol went off bang, and the same moment o' time Bob Pretty jumped up with a 'orrible scream, and holding his 'ands over 'is eyes danced about as though he'd gone mad.
Everybody started up at once and got round 'im, and asked 'im wot was the matter; but Bob didn't answer 'em. He kept on making a dreadful noise, and at last 'e broke out of the room and, holding 'is 'andkercher to 'is face, ran off 'ome as 'ard as he could run.
"You've done it now, mate," ses Bill Chambers to the conjurer. "I thought you wouldn't be satisfied till you'd done some 'arm. You've been and blinded pore Bob Pretty."
"Nonsense," ses the conjurer. "He's frightened, that's all."
"Frightened!" ses Peter Gubbins. "Why, you fired d.i.c.ky Weed's watch straight into 'is face."
"Rubbish," ses the conjurer; "it dropped into 'is pocket, and he'll find it there when 'e comes to 'is senses."
"Do you mean to tell me that Bob Pretty 'as gone off with my watch in 'is pocket?" screams d.i.c.ky Weed.
"I do," ses the other.
"You'd better get 'old of Bob afore 'e finds it out, d.i.c.ky," ses Bill Chambers.
d.i.c.ky Weed didn't answer 'im; he was already running along to Bob Pretty's as fast as 'is legs would take 'im, with most of us follering behind to see wot 'appened.
The door was fastened when we got to it, but d.i.c.ky Weed banged away at it as 'ard as he could bang, and at last the bedroom winder went up and Mrs. Pretty stuck her 'ead out.
"H'sh!" she ses, in a whisper. "Go away."
"I want to see Bob," ses d.i.c.ky Weed.
"You can't see 'im," ses Mrs. Pretty. "I'm getting 'im to bed. He's been shot, pore dear. Can't you 'ear 'im groaning?"
We 'adn't up to then, but a'most direckly arter she 'ad spoke you could ha' heard Bob's groans a mile away. Dreadful, they was.
"There, there, pore dear," ses Mrs. Pretty.
"Shall I come in and 'elp you get 'im to bed?" ses d.i.c.ky Weed, 'arf crying.
"No, thank you, Mr. Weed," ses Mrs. Pretty. "It's very kind of you to offer, but 'e wouldn't like any hands but mine to touch 'im. I'll send in and let you know 'ow he is fust thing in the morning."
"Try and get 'old of the coat, d.i.c.ky," ses Bill Chambers, in a whisper.
"Offer to mend it for 'im. It's sure to want it."
"Well, I'm sorry I can't be no 'elp to you," ses d.i.c.ky Weed, "but I noticed a rent in Bob's coat and, as 'e's likely to be laid up a bit, it ud be a good opportunity for me to mend it for 'im. I won't charge 'im nothing. If you drop it down I'll do it now."
"Thankee," ses Mrs. Pretty; "if you just wait a moment I'll clear the pockets out and drop it down to you."
She turned back into the bedroom, and d.i.c.ky Weed ground 'is teeth together and told Bill Chambers that the next time he took 'is advice he'd remember it. He stood there trembling all over with temper, and when Mrs. Pretty came to the winder agin and dropped the coat on his 'ead and said that Bob felt his kindness very much, and he 'oped d.i.c.ky ud make a good job of it, because it was 'is favrite coat, he couldn't speak. He stood there shaking all over till Mrs. Pretty 'ad shut the winder down agin, and then 'e turned to the conjurer, as 'ad come up with the rest of us, and asked 'im wot he was going to do about it now.
"I tell you he's got the watch," ses the conjurer, pointing up at the winder. "It went into 'is pocket. I saw it go. He was no more shot than you were. If 'e was, why doesn't he send for the doctor?"
"I can't 'elp that," ses d.i.c.ky Weed. "I want my watch or else twenty pounds."
"We'll talk it over in a day or two," ses the conjurer. "I'm giving my celebrated entertainment at Wickham Fair on Monday, but I'll come back 'ere to the Cauliflower the Sat.u.r.day before and give another entertainment, and then we'll see wot's to be done. I can't run away, because in any case I can't afford to miss the fair."
d.i.c.ky Weed gave way at last and went off 'ome to bed and told 'is wife about it, and listening to 'er advice he got up at six o'clock in the morning and went round to see 'ow Bob Pretty was.
Mrs. Pretty was up when 'e got there, and arter calling up the stairs to Bob told d.i.c.ky Weed to go upstairs. Bob Pretty was sitting up in bed with 'is face covered in bandages, and he seemed quite pleased to see 'im.
"It ain't everybody that ud get up at six o'clock to see 'ow I'm getting on," he ses. "You've got a feeling 'art, d.i.c.ky."