Mr. Barnham, who had been awaiting his chance, groaned eloquently.
“So when ’e talks about the stage,” continued Miss Gedge, “I says, ‘You go, me little friend,’ I says, ‘and ’ere’s ’appy days. But don’t you call roun’ for me on Monday evenin’, ’cause this is where you get off.’ ”
A round of applause acclaimed this admirable sentiment.
Mr. Mason blinked very hard.
“Ah, well,” he said, “I s’pose it’ll ’ave to be ’oly orders after all.” He adjusted his collar, peered at an imaginary book and looked up earnestly. “Brethren, we will now sing Cease thy ticklin’, Jock.”
This justly occasioned great laughter.
As it subsided—
“Oh, I’ve bought a new straw,” said Miss Gedge. “A regular Kiss-me-quick. Not that I wanted to, but since Benk ’Oliday the other ain’t gone with my scent. I wore it to ’Astin’s, you know, an’ ’Erbert’s brother was ’oldin’ it when ’e come over queer. Of course, memories is very sweet, but . . .”
Amidst squeals of delight—
“She ’ad ’im on the brain,” explained Mr. Mason.