It was a warm evening along the side of old Father Thames. My friend, with much graceful delicacy, made it known to me that a drop of "ile" now and then did not go bad with one tried by the cares of a policeman. So we set out for the nearby "King's Head and Eight Bells." When we came to this public house I discovered that it was apparently absolutely impossible for my friend to go in. He instructed me then in this way: I was to go in alone and order for my friend outside a pint of "mull and bitter, in a tankard." The potman, he informed me, would bring it out to him. The expense of this refreshment was not heavy; it came to one penny ha'penny. The services of the obliging potman were gratuitous. I found my friend in the pathway outside with the tankard between his hearty face and the sky. When he had concluded his draught, he thanked me, smacked his lips, wiped his mouth with a large handkerchief, and hurried away, as, he said, "the inspector" would be along presently. Just why the inspector would regard "ile" in the open air in view of the whole world less an evil than a tankard of mull and bitter in a public house I cannot say. But it may be that as long as one is in the open one can still keep one eye on one's duty.
I was hailed several days after this by my friend, who approached rapidly. Well, I thought, he has been very useful to me, and three ha'pennies are not much.
"I have something for you," said my friend, somewhat heated by his haste.
"You have?" I said. "What is it?"
"It's a rose," replied my friend.
"A what?" I asked.
"A flower," said my friend, recognising that we did not speak exactly the same language. "You know what that is?"
"Oh, yes. I know what a flower is," I said. "Where have you got it?"
"I have secreted it in the churchyard, sir," he replied. "I'll fetch it directly?" he added, and was off.
When he returned through the gloaming he put the flower through my buttonhole. "A lady dropped it out of her carriage," he said; "and I thought of you when I picked it up." He stooped and smelled it. "Hasn't it," he said, "a lovely scent?"