Bob. Now then for the stumpy. (Searching about in his pockets for the money). My tanners are like young colts; I’m obliged to hunt ’em into a corner, afore I can get hold on ’em—there! hand us over three browns out o’ that ’ere tizzy; and tip us the heavy. (Landlord receives money and delivers porter). Vy don’t you fill the pot? Likes to have a head on the pot.
Mace. How can you have a head on the pot, vhen the chill’s off?
Bob. Vell, then let me have the next vith the chill on, vill you? (Bob drinks).
Sal. You leave some for me, Massa Bob. (Drinks and empties the pot).
Bob. Vy, Sarah, you seems fond on it—likes to see the end, eh?
(Bob sits down on one stool and pulls another to the front of him on which he arranges the bread, cheese, onions, &c., then tearing open the loaf discovers a live mouse which he holds up by the tail, and walking up to Mr. Mace, says:—I say guv’nor I didn’t axe ye for a hanimated sandvitch did I?
Mace. Oh! you is allus so werry partic’lar some times you is. But I say ladies and gemmen, I hopes for the harmony of the evening, you’ll not be back’ards in handing out your mags and duces to the teazer of the catgut here.
Bob. Aye, aye!—lend us a tanner on the bell, vill you?
Mace. Lend you a tanner on the bell?—It’s vhat I don’t like, Muster Bob; highly improper—you know I’ve a wery great objection to anything of the kind; however, for vonce, I suppose I must; though it ’aint right—but talking o’ that, I begs leave to hint, that I trusts heavy vet von’t be the order of the evening!:—