"What! that old cove with the gamboge sneezer and swivel eye?"
"Aye; he've a-had the dropsy the last three months. Just haven't the guv'ner stuck it into im!"
"Look there, whose black job is that goin' along close by old Punch,—your guv'ner's?"
"Over the left—Come, I say, don't be orf jist yet."
"Must. I'm in for it as 'tis."
"No, no. Here! I 'll toss yer for a pint." As he made this offer, Master Scales deposited his basket on the pavement, and produced a halfpenny.
"Well, come, be quick then! Now! Heads, I win; tails, you lose."
"Heads! Heads 'tis!
"Come, I say, Master Ben, give us my change, will yer."
"Take your change out of that!" So saying, and suiting an appropriate action to the word, Master Potts turned rapidly on his heel; and before his professional brother could pack up his materia medica from the ground, had turned a corner and was out of sight.