"Good. I always mistrusted you. I came without a penny. Lend me a sovereign."
"I'm not in this compromise," cried Chapman. "I've said all I've got to say. You'll run me in for nothing more."
It was at the end of the meal that Crawshaw rose. "Thanks awfully, you fellows. There's twelve pounds twelve in the bowl. Eleven of us have given a sovereign and Chapman there, bless his generous heart, thirty-two shillings."
"Crawshaw," grumbled Chapman, "I know you've a family. I know you're too old. I know you're physically disqualified. But you ought to go to the Front. Not only would it raise the spirits of the poor people you leave behind here, but your very presence in the trench with a subscription list would make the enemy run."
"Porter, Porter! Stop the train! I've left my wool in it!"
Belated Reveller. "Here, switch off, Gov'nor. I'm not a Zellerpin!"