“Here’s twopence. I’ll take a halfpenny apple. That will make it right, won’t it?”
And amid loud cheers she departed.
The ice thus broken, a rush took place, as Ridgway, who was poetical, said—
“Fellows may step in where angels didn’t fear to tread.”
Then did D’Arcy and Lickford pant and perspire, and wish they had never been born. Hands reached in from all sides, and helped themselves to cakes and tarts, and coppers showered in on them from nobody could tell where.
They found themselves handing change out into space, and sowing sweets broadcast among the crowd.
The other directors meanwhile, as in duty bound, nobly rallied round them, and added to their embarrassment.
“Walk up, walk up!” shouted Wally. “Try our brandy-balls, eight a penny. Eight brandy-balls for Dalton; you chaps, look sharp. Change for a sov. for Clapperton; beg pardon, sixpence (didn’t know he kept such small coins). Hullo, hullo! stand by for my young brother Percy! He’s just a-going to begin. Fifteen jam tarts, half a pound of peppermints, half a dozen ginger-beer. Bite his money hard, D’Arcy; see there are no bad ’uns. I know the chap!”
“Bah! I hope they’ve got better toffee here than that muck you make,” said Percy.
“Come, wake up!” cried Cash. “I’ve been waiting five minutes for my cake.”