"Now, then, my jolly Sportsman! I've got more money than the Parson of the parish! Those as don't play can't vin and those as are here arn't there! I'd hould any of you, from a tanner to a soverin, or ten, as you don't tell which thimble the pea is under." "It's there, Sir"—"I barr tellings"—"I'll go it again."—"Vat you don't see don't look at, and what you do see don't tell. I'll hould you a soverin, Sir, that you don't tell me vitch thimble the pea is under."—"Lay him, Sir (in a whisper); it's under the middle'un I'll go you halves."—"Lay him another; that's right."—I'm blow'd but we've lost: who'd a thought it!"—Smack goes the flat's hat over his eyes; exit the confederates with a loud laugh.
George Cruikshank's "More Mornings at Bow Street."
GALLERY OF COMICALITIES—No. LXIX.
"FLYING DUSTMEN."
"The Dustman's cart offends thy clothes and eyes,
When through the street a cloud of ashes flies."— Gay.