THE LADY OF THE BARGE
AND OTHER STORIES
By W. W. Jacobs
BOOK 8
A TIGER'S SKIN
The travelling sign-painter who was repainting the sign of the"Cauliflower" was enjoying a well-earned respite from his labours. Onthe old table under the shade of the elms mammoth sandwiches and a largeslice of cheese waited in an untied handkerchief until such time as histhirst should be satisfied. At the other side of the table the oldestman in Claybury, drawing gently at a long clay pipe, turned a dim andregretful eye up at the old signboard.
"I've drunk my beer under it for pretty near seventy years," he said,with a sigh. "It's a pity it couldn't ha' lasted my time."
The painter, slowly pushing a wedge of sandwich into his mouth, regardedhim indulgently.
"It's all through two young gentlemen as was passing through 'ere a monthor two ago," continued the old man; "they told Smith, the landlord,they'd been looking all over the place for the 'Cauliflower,' and whenSmith showed 'em the sign they said they thought it was the 'George theFourth,' and a very good likeness, too."
The painter laughed and took another look at the old sign; then, with thenervousness of the true artist, he took a look at his own. One or twoshadows—
He flung his legs over the bench and took up his brushes. In ten minutesthe most fervent loyalist would have looked in vain for any resemblance,and with a sigh at the pitfalls which beset the artist he returned to hisinterrupted meal and hailed the house for more beer.
"There's nobody could mistake your sign for anything but a cauliflower,"said the old man; "it looks good enough to eat."
The painter smiled and pushed his mug across the table. He was a tender-hearted man, and once—when painting the sign of the "Sir WilfridLawson"—knew himself what it was to lack beer. He began to discourse onart, and spoke somewhat disparagingly of the cauliflower as a subject.With a shake of his head he spoke of the possibilities of a spotted cowor a blue lion.
"Talking of lions," said the ancient, musingly, "I s'pose as you never'eard tell of the Claybury tiger? It was afore your time in these parts,I expect."
The painter admitted his ignorance, and, finding that the allusion had noreference to an inn, pulled out his pipe and prepared to listen.
"It's a while ago now," said the old man, slowly, "and the circus thetiger belonged to was going through Claybury to get to Wickham, when,just as they was passing Gill's farm, a steam-ingine they 'ad to drawsome o' the vans broke down, and they 'ad to stop while the blacksmithmended it. That being so, they put up a big tent and 'ad the circus'ere.
"I was one o' them as went, and I must say it was worth the money, thoughHenry Walker was disappointed