[Fights hard for a front place.
Procession passing.
Impertinent Female (to gorgeous Coachman). 'Ow you 'ave altered!
Well-informed Person (pointing out City Marshal). That's Sir Charles, that is!
Unemployed (smarting with sense of recent wrongs). Yah, toirant!
[The C. M. beams with gratification.
Open carriages pass, containing Aldermen in tall hats and fur-coats.
Critical Crowd. Brush yer 'ats! There's a nose! Oh, ain't he bin 'avin' a go at the sherry afore he started, neither! 'Ere comes old "Sir Ben"—that's 'im in the white pot 'at!
[They cheer Sir Ben—without, however, any clear notion why.