BOOKMAKERS ON THE BEACH.

The Sands at Baymouth, where some pony and horse races are being run. By the Grand Stand, and under the wall of the esplanade, about a dozen bookmakers, perched on old packing-cases, are clamouring with their customary energy. The public, however, for some reason seems unusually deaf to their blandishments and disinclined for speculation, and the bookmakers, after shouting themselves hoarse with little or no result, are beginning to feel discouraged.

Bookmakers(antiphonally). Evens on the field! Three to one bar one! Five to one bar two! Six to one bar one! Even moneyBeeswing! Six to onePopgun! Come on 'ere. Two to one on the field! What do you want todo?

[The public apparently want to look another way.

First Bookmaker(toSecond Bookmaker). Not much 'ere to-day! Shawn't get no roast baked and biled this journey, eh?

Second B.(with deep disgust). They ain'tgotno money! Baymouth's going down. Why, this might be a bloomin' Sunday-school treat! Blest if I believe they know what we're 'erefor!

Third B.(after pausing to refresh himself, sardonically toFourth Bookmaker). De-lightful weather, William!

William(in a similar tone of irony). What a glorious day, Percy! Sech a treat to see all the people enjoyin' theirselves without any o' the silly speculation yerdofind sometimes on occasions like this! (He accepts the bottle his friend passes, and drinks.) 'Ere's better luck to all!

Fifth B.(pathetically). Don't leave your little Freddy out! (They don't leave their littleFreddyout.) Cheer up, William, there's 'appier days in store; there'll be Jersey comin' soon. We'll be orf to the sunny south! (To a stranger who comes up to him.) Why, Uncle, you don't say it's you! Howwellyou're looking! Shake 'ands and 'ave a bit on, jest for ole sake's sake! (The stranger proceeds to introduce himself as the Secretary, and to demand a fee.) What! pay you five shillins for standin' 'ere wastin' my time and voice like this? Not me! Why, I ain't took two blessed sorcepans since I bin 'ere! (The Secretary remains firm.) I won't do it, my boy.Not onprinserple, I won't. I wouldn't give you five shillins not if your tongue was 'anging down on to your boots—so there! (The Secretary does not attempt so violent an appeal to his better nature, but calls a police-inspector.) 'Ere, I'd sooner git down and chuck the show altogether; jest to mark my contempt for such goings on! (He descends from his box; takes down his sign, unscrews his pole, folds up his professional triptych, and departs in a state of virtuous indignation only to be expressed by extreme profanity, while the Secretary proceeds unmoved to collect payments from the others; who eventually compromise the claims for half-a-crown.)

Mr. Sam Satchell("from Southampton"). Now then, you gentlemen and aristocratic tradesmen, whereareyou all? Don't any o' you knowanything? Come on 'ere. (He stops an elderly rustic.) You've got a fancy, I can see! (The rustic denies the impeachment, grinning.) Git along with yer, yer artful ole puss, then, and don't keep gentlemen away as wants to bet! (To a Yeomanry trooper.) Come along, my ole soldier-boy, give it a name! (His old soldier-boy declines to give it any name, and passes on.) Call yerself a warrior bold, and afraid o' riskin' 'alf-a-crown! Why, yer Queen and country orter be ashamed o' yer! (As a young farmer in riding-gaiters comes up, with the evidentintention of business.) Ah,youdon't forget the old firm, I see.... What, four to one not good enough for you? You won't get no better odds, go where youlike! I suppose you expeck me to make you a present o' the money? (The farmer moves on.) I dunno what'scometo 'em all.Inever see nothing like it in allmylife!

In the Grand Stand.

A Glib Person,in a tall hat(as he picks his way up and down the benches, the occupants of which treat him with intolerant indifference). I'm not a bookmaker, ladies and gentlemen; don't have that impression of me for a moment! I'm simply an amateur, and an independent gentleman o' means, like any of yourselves. You all know more thanIdo. I don't come 'ere with any intention o' winning your money—far from it. I'm wishful to settle and live among you. I may eventually put up as your member; and, if so, when I take my place in Parliament I shall be in a position to testify that the Baymouth people are extremely cautious as to the manner in which they invest their money on 'orse-racing'! Yes, I'm 'ere on beyarf of the Sporting League, just to prove how free a meeting like this is from the evils o' gambling. I don't come 'ere torobyer. I want yer all to win. I like to see yer bright and shining faces around me; I like the friverolity and reckereation and the conviverality of the thing, that's all. I'll tell yer how it is. I've a rich ole aunt, and she puts fifty pound into my 'ands, and sez, "Jacky," she sez, "I love those dear Baymouth people, and I want you to take this 'ere money and lay it out among 'em in moieties, and make 'em rich and 'appy." You can see for yourselves. I've no tickets and no parryfernalia, excep' this little pocket-book, where I enter any bets you honour me with. Come, Miss win a pair o' those three-and-sixpenny gloves at Chickerell's, the ex-Mayor's, to obligeme! Did I tread on your corn, Sir? I assure you it was the last thing I intended.... "You knew I'd do it afore I'd done?"... Well, Sir, if you've sech a gift o' seeing into futoority as that, why not make something out of it now? Three to one bar one.Kitty I'mbarring. Thankyou, Sir; 'alf-a-crown to seven and six onSportsman. I tell you candidly—you've got the winner. The favourite won't win. Now, then, all you others, where's your Baymouth pluck? I orfered you thirty to oneBeeswinglast race; and you wouldn't take it. AndBeeswingwon, and you lost the chance o' making yer fortunes.Don't blamemeif the same thing 'appens again. I'm on'y bettin', as I told you, for my own amusement, and to get rid o' the money! (&c.,&c.)

Mr. Sam Satchell(whom the apathy of the public has apparently reduced to a state of defiant buffoonery). Even moneyDaredevil, you rascals! And why the blazes don't ye take it? Come on. I'll take two little bits o' twos thatKittydon't win! Four to one against ole bread-and-butterTommy, over there in the corner! Eleven and a 'alf to three quarters to two againstKitty. "What har the Wild Waves say-hay-ing?" TwoKittiesto threeDaredevilsagainst a bloomin' goat-chaise? On the Baymouth Durby I'm bettin'!

At the Close of the Last Race—Three horses have started; the favourite has led to the turn and then bolted up the shingle, but, as the tide has come in and almost covered the course, and the other two horses by declining to face the water have let him in again, he wins after an exciting finish, up to the girths in sea-water; and such bookmakers as have succeeded in obtaining patronage are paying up with as much cheerfulness as they can command.

First Bookmaker(to eager backer). "Wait a bit, my boy, waita bit, the number hasn't gone up yet, my son. Where's your ticket—forty-two? (His Clerk refers to book.) That'sSquibbs. I pay overwinners—not losers. (To the public.) Come alongand fetch your money, the bullion's 'ere! (To another backer.) What was yours—threes? ("FoursI've got,"from his Clerk.) Why don't yer arst for what you're entitled to, instead o' makin' me arst my clurk what your bet was? There's your money—take it and go."

"Why the blazes don't ye take it?""Why the blazes don't ye take it?"

[The backer departs wealthier but abashed.

Second B.I'm payin' over that 'ard-run race, gentlemen, men and 'orses exhorsted! I'm payin' overSusan—dear ole Susey-hanner! who wants their money? The Bank o' England's 'ere, gentlemen, Mr. Frankie Fairprice and his ole friend, who's always by his side and never looses 'im!

Third B.(who has had to borrow largely from his brethren to meet his engagements). Are you all done now? (To the crowd.) Then I'll wish yer good afternoon, thank ye all for yer comp'ny, but you've bin bloomin' bad fun to-day, and you don't ketch me playin' Patience on a monument at any more o' yer blanky sand 'oppin' 'andicaps, that's all!

[However, the local newspapers report next day that "A number of the sporting fraternity were in attendance to do business and apparently carried on a brisk and profitable trade"—which only shows how difficult it is for the casual observer to form an accurate opinion.

The Omnibus is on its progress from Piccadilly to the Bank; the weather is raw and unpleasant, and the occupants of the garden-seats on the roof of the vehicle are—for once in a way—mostly men.

First Passenger(toSecond, an acquaintance). I see young Bashaway the other day. (Significantly.) Jest been to see his father, so he told me.

Second Passenger(with interest).'Adhe though? And 'ow did hefindhim?

First P.Fustrate, young Jim said; didn't know when he'd seen him lookin' better—(with sentiment)—quite like his old self!

Second P.(heartily). Thatisgood 'earin', that is! (Reflectively.) Seemsrum, though, come to think of it.

First P.'Ow d'yermean—rum? It's no more than what yer'd expect, bein' where he is. Look at theairo' the place—there ain't a 'elthier situation all round London, to my mind!

Second P.No, that's right enough; and, from all I 'ear, the food's well cooked and served reg'lar, if itisplain.

First P.Ah, and Billenjoyshis meals now, he does—the work gives him a appetite, and it's years, to my certain knowledge, since he done a stroke, and o' course he ain't allowed no drink——

Second P.Andthat'senough, of itself, to be the savin' of 'im, the way he was!

First P.Then, yer see, there's the reg'lar hours, and the freedom from worry, and the like, and nothink on his mind, and the place with every sanitary improvement and that—why, he owns his own self it's bin the makin' of 'im. And from what young Jim was a tellin' me, it appears that if Bill goes on gittin' good-conduck marks at the rate he's doin', there'll be a nice little sum doo to 'im when he's done his time at Wormwood Scrubs.

Second P.(sympathetically). Well, and that makes suthin' to look forward to, don't it, when hedoesgit let out. Talkin' o' that, you've known 'im longer 'nwhat I 'ave. Do you 'appen to know what it was as he got inter troublefor?

First P.(with the consciousness of superior delicacy). Lor' bless yer, I never thought o' arskin' 'im the question.

Second P.(with feeble self-assertion under this implied rebuke). Well, it all depends on 'ow yerputa question o' that sort.

[He is silent for the remainder of the journey.

A Chatty Passenger(to aContradictious Passenger, as the 'bus passes Trafalgar Square). Pretty these 'ere fountains look, with the water playin', don't they?

TheContradicious Passenger. The fountings are well enough, if it wasn't fur the water—norsty messy stuff, I call it.

TheChatty P.(abandoning the fountains). It's wonderful what an amount o' traffic there is in the Strand, ain't it?

Contrad. P.Nothink to what it was forty years ago!

[His neighbour, not feeling in a position to deny it, subsides.

TheDriver(to aPassenger with a Badge, immediately behind him). 'Ow is it you're orf yer keb to-day, Bob? Taking a day orf, or what?

ThePassenger with a Badge. Not much. Goin' up to Bow Street to gimmy evidence in a collision case—that's all.

Driver(dubiously). Bow Street! Ain't that rorther shovin' yer 'ed in the lion's mouth, eh?

TheP. with a B.(with virtuous serenity). Notit! What ha' they got agen me all the time I bin licensed? Only three drunks and a loiter!

TheChatty P.(returning to the charge). Orful state the roads are in with all this mud! I s'pose that's the London County Council, eh?

TheContrad. P.London Kayounty Kayouncil! No, it ain't—nothink o' the sort! I'lltellyer 'oo it is, if yer want to know; it's Gladstone!

TheChatty P.(mildly surprised, but glad to have discovered common ground). I see you're a Conservative—like myself.

TheContrad. P.That's jest where you'rewrong! I ain't no Conservative, nor yet I don't want none o' Gladstone neither. I'm a Radikil,Iam. John Burns and Ben Tillett—that'smylot!

TheChatty P.(reluctantly relinquishing politics). Ah, well, every man's got a right to form his own opinions, ain't he?

TheContrad. P.No, heain't—not if he goesand formswrong'uns! (A pause.) 'Ave yer got the time about yer?

TheChatty P.(accepting this as a sign of softening). I'm sorry to say I come out without my watch this morning, or else——But there's plenty o' clocks about as'll tell yer.

TheContrad. P.(with intense disdain). Clocks! You don't ketchmetrusting no clocks—with no two of 'em alike!

TheChatty P.(as they pass a well-known watchmaker's). Well, 'ow about that clock with the figgers? Won'tthatdo yer? They set it to Grinnidge time every hour, so it's bound to be right!

TheContrad. P.(as descends). There yerare! Think I'd put my faith in a clock as 'as to be set right every hour? 'Tain'tlikely! Good-day to yer!

TheChatty P.So long! (To himself.) A pleasant feller enough, I dessay, if you leave the subjec' to'im!

Driver(to smartHansom Cabman). Now then, outer the way with that 'ere 'Ackney keb o' yours!

Hansom Cabman(with hauteur). As it 'appens, itain'ta 'Ackney cab—it's a private kerridge, this is!

Driver.Ah, I might ha' knownyouwas a hammytoor by yer silly hasslike method o' conducting yer business! [Drives on triumphant.

A Political Passenger(with a panacea—to a"Knowledgable" Passenger). No, I don't want no 'Ome Rule, nor yet no Parish Counsels, nor nothink o'that. WhatIwanter see interdooced 'ere is Tereenial Porliments.

TheKnowledgable Passenger(with respect). Tereenial Parliments? I don't know as I've 'eard o'them.

ThePol. P.Ain't yer? Well, they're what wewant. Why, they've 'ad 'em in America, they've ad 'em in Ostralia, they've 'ad 'em in Orstria; and everywhere, mind yer,everywherethey've been in operation they've turned out a success!

TheKn. P.Then it's 'igh timewe'ad 'em.Whatis it they're called, again?

ThePol. P.Tee-reen-ial Porliments. It stands toreasonthey work well. There theyare, a settin' eight months in the year fur seven year on end—somethink'sboundto come of it! I'd like to see any o'ourlot settin' like that! It's a pity we don't take more pattern by America in our law-makin'.

"Thash where 'tis, yer come on me too late!""Thash where 'tis, yer come on me too late!"

TheKn. P.Except in our criminal law. Why, I've 'eard there's States out there where a man may go and commit a crime, d'ye see, and once he gits across the boundary from one State into another—like as it might be a line across this 'ere street like, d'ye see—once he's over that, they can't do nothink to 'im!

ThePol. P.(thoughtfully). Ah, that wouldn't never do 'ere, that wouldn't!

[TheConductorcomes up to collect fares.

Conductor(to aSleepy Passengerin a corner). Now then, fare, please?

TheSleepy Passenger(with manly regret). I ain't gorrit, ole pal. If yer'd asht me jes' two minutes afore I gorrup, I could ha' done it for yer, but I took jes' anorrer glash an' blued th' lot. No man can say I don' part s'long's I gorrermoney; no freehandeder man anywheresh'n wharri am; but yer come on me too late. (Shaking his head reproachfully.) Thash where 'tis, yer come on me too late!

Cond.'Ere, I ain't goin' to stand no nonsense! If yer 'aven't got the money, git down orf o' my bus, and quick, too!

TheSl. P.Geddown? An'quick! You wouldn' tor' li' that if you'd sheen wharrer bloomin' 'ard job I 'ad to getup! [He resumes his slumber.

Cond.(passing on, softened). I can't go and breakthe beggar's neck for tuppence, and he's got it somewhere about him, as likely as not. (To aLitigious Passenger.) Tuppence is the fare, Sir, ifyouplease.

TheLitigious Passenger. One penny is the legal fare, and all I intend to pay. I know the law!

Cond.And so do I. It's wrote up tuppence inside the bus. If yer ain't going to pay more, yer'd better git down; ye've 'ad over your penn'orth a'ready!

TheLitig. P.(with spirit). I decline to get down. I insist on being taken to the Bank for my penny.

Cond.Oh,doyer? We'll see about that.

[He stops the 'bus and calls aConstable, to whom he briefly explains the situation.

Constable(pacifically, from below, to theLitig. P.). Come, Sir, don't block the traffic, like this 'ere! Either pay the man his fare or get down—one of the two.

TheLitig. P.(from the roof). I have a legal right to remain here if I like!

Const.That may be, Sir; but if you do, this man can summons you that's all.

TheLitig. P.(warming with the joy of battle). That's just what Iwanthim to do! Can't Imakehim summon me?

Cond.(disgusted). 'Ere, 'ang it all!doyer think I'm goin' to cart you 'arf over London fur a penny, and throw yer in the luxury of a lawsoot? 'Ere's yer penny back, and I give yer the ride free,there!

TheLitig. P.(accepting the penny, and descending with dignity). Very well; and let me tell you this, it was just as well you gave way when you did, for I was quite prepared to carry the case to the House of Lords!

Cond.Ah! and I s'pose yer think yer'd gittherefor a penny?

[The Omnibus goes on before theLitigious Personhas time to think over such an obvious repartee as asking theConstableto take the man's number.

A Yard. In the open space between the rows of pens theAuctioneeris trying to dispose of some horses which are trotted out one by one in the usual fashion.

The Auctioneer(spectacled, red-bearded, canny, slightly Arcadian touch imparted by straw hat, and a sprig of heather in his button-hole). What'll I say for this, noo? (A horse of a meditative mien is just brought in.) Here's a beast, and a very good beast, from Lochaber! (The bystanders remain unmoved.) He was bred by Meester MacFarlane, o' Drumtappit, and ye'll all ha' haird on him as the biggest breeder in these pairts. (Heads are shaken, so much as to intimate that this particular animal does not do Mr. MacFarlane justice.) Trot him up an' doon a bit, boy, and show his action—stan' away back there!(With affected concern.) Don't curb him so tight—be careful now, or ye'll do meeschief to yourself an' others! (As the horse trots past them,several critics slap it disrespectfully on the hind-quarters—a liberty which it bears with meekness.) There's a pace for ye—he's a guid woorker, a gran' beast—hoo much shall we say for him? (Nobody seems able to express his appreciation of the grand beast in figures.) Just to stairt ye then—twenty poon! (Even the animal himself appears slightly staggered by this sum; bystanders are quietly derisive;Auctioneerclimbs rapidly down without interruption till he reaches six pounds, when he receives his first bid.) Sex poon' is bed for 'm—is there ony advance on sex poon? (Someone in the background:—"Fefteen shellin'!") Sex-fefteen—noo, Meester McRobbie, wull ye no luik this way? (Mr. McR.responds by a decided negative.) Ye won't? Ah, I never got ony guid from ye—'cept when I didn't meet ye. (This piece of Scotch "wut" raises a laugh atMr.McR.'sexpense, but does not affect the bidding, which still languishes.) Then, he's going at sex-fefteen—for the last time. Whaur's my bedder at sex-fefteen? (Repentance or modesty prevents the bidder from coming forward, and theAuctioneercontinues, more in grief than anger.) Eh, this is too bad noo—I'll thank no man for making me a bed, 'cept those that are meant in airnest. No one bed onything for a beast like this! Then I hae to tell ye ye've not bed near up to the resairveprice on it. (Suddenly becomes weary of the animal.) Tak' it awa'. (The next horse is led in.) Now, here's a beast that's well-known, I'm thenkin'. (The general expression signifies that its reputation is not altogether to its credit.) There's a well-bred mare—open up, and let her show hersel'. (The mare is shown, but fails to excite competition.) Ah, ye'll ony buy screws to-day, an' not the nice things at a'—tak' her away. (The mare is taken out ignominiously;Auctioneer, followed by crowd, leads the way to where a pony and trap are standing harnessed.) Noo, I'm gaun to pit up the pony an' van—just show them hoo she goes in hairness, boy. (To intrusive collie.) Out of the way, dug, in case ye get your feet smashed. (Trap starts off, and is driven out of sight.) Whaur's the laddie gaun ta? Thenks he'll show himsel' at Nairn, maybe! Ah, here she comes. (Trap returns at a modest pace.) Stan' back, noo, all of ye; give her room. I'll sell the mare first, and a beauty she is—what shell we say? Ten poons—and she's a nice one! Well, stairt her at five, she may get up. (Bidding gets up to ten pounds, where it stops.) Then she goes at ten, and I'm very glad she's gaun to a gude auld friend o' mine—Meester McKenzie, o' Glenbannock. Wull ye say five mair, and take the hairness, Meester McKenzie? It'srichthairness!(Mr. McK.declines to be tempted.) Well, I'm sorry ye wull na, I'd ha liked (sentimentally, as if it had been the dream of his life) for the mare an' the hairness to go togither and no to pairt them—but as 'tis, it canna be helped. We'll pass on to the pegs, if you please. (Passes to a row of pens containing pigs, and mounts some planks placed along the top.) Now, these are some proper pegs. (A rush is made for the rails enclosing the pigs, which instantly become self-conscious and redouble their grunts.) Noo, laddies, laddies, it's no fair o' ye taking up a' the room i' that way. I'm quite sure there's a lot o' ye in front that's no buying pegs—ye hanna the luik o' pairsons that buy pegs. Stan' by for shame, and don't keep them that comes to buy, where they canna see sae much as a tail. Hoo much apiece for these palefaced pegs? Ye've an awfu' guid view o' them there, Mr. Ferguson,—-luik this way once again for forrty and threepence. (Persuasively.) It'll soun' better wi' the threepence. Gaun' for forty an' three. (The owner of the pigs calls out "No!") I thocht I made a law here that people having pegs should gie me the resairve at the time—see what ye do now, Peter MacPhairson, make a fule of the buyers and a fule o' mysel'!—but (with tolerant contempt) Peter is not a strong man, we must no be haird on Peter. (Roar from crowd;disappearance ofMr. MacPh.) I'll cancel no more sales that way, however, as I eentimate to ye once for a'.

'Arry(on tour from Town—to his admiring friend). I say, Charley, what d'yer bet I don't talk to some of these chaps in their own lingo?

Charley.What a fellow you are! Mind what you are about, that's all.

'Arry(going up to an elderly person in the only Scotch cap visible). Hech, Sair, but yon's a braw bonnie wee bit piggie fur a body to tak' a richt gude wullie waucht wi' gin ye meet him comin' thro' the rye!

ThePerson in the Scotch Cap(who happens to be a retired Colonel in a Highland Regiment, who is somewhat careless in his attire). I think you will find that sort of thing better appreciated after you've got home.

['Arryreturns toCharley, feeling much smaller than he allows his friend to perceive.

An airless Court in a London back Street.Time—August.

Jimmy(aged eight, to Florrie, aged seven). No, I ain't comin' to the Reckereation Groun', not jess yit, I carn't.... I'm goin' ter wyte about 'ere till the lidy comes.... Why, 'er as is comin' to see my Muvver 'bout sendin' me fur a fortnight in the kerntry.... Yus, where I was larst year.... It's settled as I'm ter go agine—leastways asgoodas settled. My Farver 'e've sent in a happlication to the K'mitty, and Teacher 'e sez 'e kin reckermend me, an' Mr. and Mrs. Delves—them as 'ad the cottidge where I went afore—they've arst fur to 'ave me agin—so you see, Florrie, it's allright. On'y I carn't settle to nuffink afore I know when I'm goin', an' about the trine an' that. Yer 'ave to roide in a trineto git to the kerntry, yer know.... Wot, ain't yer never bin there?... Yer'd wanter fawst enough if yer knoo what it was loike.... There's grorss there, an' trees an' that.... Na-ow, alotbetter 'n the Reckereation Groun'—that's all mide outer old grivestones as the deaders 'as done wiv. There's 'ills an' bushes an' 'edges where yer can pick flowers.... There ain't no perlice togityer locked up.... An' everyfink smells so lovelly, kinder 'elthy like—it mikes yer feel 'ungry.... Not like sassages an' inions azackly—'tain't that sorter smell.... On'y 'ere and there, an' yer'd 'ardly tell theywasshops, they kerry 'em on that quoiet.... Yer wouldn' call it poky if yer was there. Mr. Delves 'ewasa kind man, 'e was; mide me a whistle out a sickermore brornch, 'e did; and Mrs. Delves, she lemme help her feed the chickings.... They 'ad a garding beyind, an' there'd bin rasberries an' gooseberries a growin' on bushes—strite, there 'ad—I ain't tellin' yer no lies—on'y they was all gone by then. An' they 'ad a dog—Rover'isnime was—'e was a koind dog, lemme lay insoide of 'is kennel orfen, 'e would.... I'd like ter 'ave a run over thet Common agen, too. I dessay as I shell—p'reps the d'y arter to-morrer.... There's a pond on it, an' geese, an' they comes at yer a stritching out their necks an' a-'issin' thetsevidge.... Na-ow, yer've on'y got ter walk up to 'em, an' they goes orf, purtendin' they took yer fur somebody else, an' wasn't meanin' no offence. I ain't afride o' no geese, I ain't—nor yet Lily wasn't neither. We sor a pig 'aving a ring put froo 'is nose one day. 'E 'ollered out like 'e was bein' killed—but 'e wasn't. An' there was a blecksmiff's, where they put the 'orse's shoes on red 'ot, 'an the 'orse 'e never took no notice. Me and Lily used ter go fur long walks, all under trees. Once she showed me a squill—"squerl"shekep' a-calling of it, till I tole 'er 'ow—an' it run up a tree zigzag, and jumped on to another ever so fur. That was when we was pickin' nuts. We went a blackberryin', too, one day.... Na-ow, there warn't nobody dead. An' Lily ... Lily Delves 'er nime was, b'longed to them I was stoppin' wiv.... I didn't notice partickler.... Older nor you, an' bigger, and lots redder 'bout the cheeks.... She wasn't a bad sort—fur a gal.... I dunno; I likedallon 'em.... Well, there was Farmer Furrows, 'e was very familiar, said as 'ow I might go inter 'is horchard and pick the happles up as was layin' there jest fur the askin'. An' Bob Rumble, 'im as druv Mr. Kennister the grocer's cart, 'e used ter gimme a roide along of 'im when 'e was tikin' round porcelsan' that. We'd go along lanes that 'igh yer couldn't see nuffink fur leaves; and once 'e druv along a Pork with tremenjus big trees in it, an' stagses walkin' about underneath with grite big 'orns.... Suthink like 'im as is drawed outside the public round the corner—on'y they warn't none o' them gold. I 'speck them gold ones is furrin'.... An' the grub—we 'ad beekstike pudd'n o' Sundays, an' as much bread an' treacle every day as ever I could eat, and Iwas'ungry when I was in the kerntry.... An' when I come away Mrs. Delves, she gethered me a big noseguy fur to tike 'ome to Muvver—kissantimums, merrigoles, an' dyliers, all sorts there was—an' Murver she put 'em in a jug, and soon as ever I shet my eyes an' sniffed, I could see that garding and Rover and Lily aspline—but they went bad, an' 'ad to be froed aw'y at larst. I shall see 'em all agine very soon now, though, won't thet be proime, eh?... Whatsy? 'Ere, Florrie, you ain'tcroying, are yer?... Why don't yer arsk yer Farver if 'e won't letyougo.... Oh, I thought as yerwantedto go. Then whatareyer——?... No, I ain't gled to git aw'y from you.... A-course I shell be gled to see 'er; but that ain't why, it's jest——You ain't never bin in the kerntry, or you'd know 'ow I'm feelin'.... There's the lidy comin' now.I must cut across an' 'ear what she sez to Muvver. Don' tike on—'tain't o'ny fur a fortnight, anyway.... Look 'ere, I got suthink' for yer, Florrie, bought it orf a man what 'ad a tray on 'em—it's a wornut, d'ye see? Now open it—ain't them two little choiner dolls noice, eh?... I'd rorther you 'ad it nor 'er, strite, I would!... I'll be back in a minnit.

"'Ere, Florrie, you ain't croying, are yer?""'Ere, Florrie, you ain'tcroying, are yer?"

After an Interval of Twenty-four Hours.

No,Iain't bin nowhere particular.... Settled? yus, it's all settled 'bout me goin' ter the kerntry.... To-morrer? no, I ain't goin'to-morrer.... Nex' week? not as Iknowson.... You wanter know sech alot, you do!... If Idotell yer, you'll on'y go an' larf.... Well, I ain't goin' at all—nowI 'ope you're pleased.... What's the good o' bein'sorry?... Oh, I don't keer much, I don't.... Set down on this step alonger me, then, and don't you go saying nuffink, or I'll stop tellin' of yer.... You remember me goin' in yes'day arternoon to 'ear what the lidy said? Well, when I got in, I 'eard 'er s'y, "Yus, it'll be a great disappintment for 'im, pore boy," she sez, "arter lookin' forward to it an' all; but it can't be 'elped." And Muvver, she sez, "'Is Farver'll be sorry, too; it done Jimmy ser much good larst time. 'E can't pay not more nor'arf-a-crownd a week towards it, but he can manage that, bein' in work jess now." But the lidy sez, "It's this w'y," she sez, "it costis us neelly arf a suffering over what the parint pays fur each child, and we ain't got the fun's fur to send more 'n a few, cos the Public don' suscroibe ser much as they might," she sez. "An' so this year we're on'y sending children as is delikit, an' reellywantsa chinge." So yer see, I ain't a goin'. I dunno as I'm delikit; but Idowant the kerntryorfulbad, I do. I wish I never 'adn't bin there at all 'cos then preps I shouldn' mind. An' yit I'm gled I bin, too. I dreamt about it larst night, Florrie, I did. I was a-settin' on this 'ere step, sime as I am now, an' it was 'ot an' stoiflin', like it is; an' all of a suddink I see Mr. Kennister's' cart wiv the grey 'orse turn into our court an' pull up hoppersite, an' Bob Rumble 'e was a-driving on it. An' 'e sez, "Jump up!" 'e sez, "an' I'll tike yer back to Mr. Delves's cottidge." And I sez, "May Florrie come too?" An' 'e sez, "Yus, both on yer." So up we gits, and we was droivin' along the lanes, and I was showin' yer the squills an' the stagses, an' jes as we come to the turn where yer kin see the cottidge—— Well, I don' remember no more on it. But it was a noice dream so far as I got wiv it, an' if I 'adn't never bin there, I couldn'ha' dreamt it,couldI, eh? An', like as not, I'll dream the rest on it anuvver night.... An' you must try an' dream your share, too, Florrie. It'll be a'most like bein' in the kerntry in a sort o' w'y fur both on us, won't it?

The Moral.

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