"They drops the doctor's arms, an' 'e starts rearrangin' the collar of 'is coat.
"''Urry up! 'Urry up, man!' yells the guv'nor.
"'All right,' says the doctor coolly. ''Ere, Cholera! Cholera!'
"As soon as 'e calls, the microbe, wot all the time 'ad been 'angin' on like grim death, lets go 'is grip, an' comes 'oppin' back to 'im, waggin' of 'is tail an' purrin' like anything."
"But why did 'e let go when the doctor says 'Collar 'er'?" objected Sam; "that would 'ave made 'im 'ang on all the 'arder."
"Not collar 'er, stupid," retorted Mr. Parbury impatiently; "cholera—see? Cholera microbe!"
"'Ow! I see—'is name like."
"Jest so," assented Mr. Parbury. "Well, when Jackson an' the 'ead warder sees the microbe comin' back, they lets go the doctor an' runs to 'elp the guv'nor.
"'Don't come messin' about me,' yells the guv'nor. 'One of yer ketch 'old o' that ruffian, an' the other fetch the prison doctor.'
"'E's away for the day, sir,' says the 'ead warder. 'Shall I go outside and find another for yer? Jackson'll 'old on to B24.'