"Why not take just a little beer, Bill?" asks Ginger.
Bill 'ung his 'ead and looked a bit silly. "I'd rather not, mate," he ses, at last. "I've been teetotal for eleven months now."
"Think of your 'ealth, Bill," ses Peter Russet; "your 'ealth is more important than the pledge. Wot made you take it?"
Bill coughed. "I 'ad reasons," he ses, slowly. "A mate o' mine wished me to."
"He ought to ha' known better," ses Sam. "He 'ad 'is reasons," ses Bill.
"Well, all I can say is, Bill," ses Ginger, "all I can say is, it's very disobligin' of you."
"Disobligin'?" ses Bill, with a start; "don't say that, mate."
"I must say it," ses Ginger, speaking very firm.
"You needn't take a lot, Bill," ses Sam; "nobody wants you to do that. Just drink in moderation, same as wot we do."
"It gets into my 'ead," ses Bill, at last.