“Fond o' children?” ses Sam.
Mr. Goodman nodded. “Fond of everybody,” he ses.
“That's 'ow Peter is,” ses Ginger; “specially young——”
Peter Russet and Sam both turned and looked at 'im very sharp.
“Children,” ses Ginger, remembering 'imself, “and teetotallers. I s'pose it is being a teetotaller 'imself.”
“Is Peter a teetotaller?” ses Mr. Goodman. “I'd no idea of it. Wot a joyful thing!”
“It was your example wot put it into his 'ead fust, I b'leeve,” ses Sam, looking at Peter for 'im to notice 'ow clever he was.
“And then, Sam and Ginger Dick being teetotallers too,” ses Peter, “we all, natural-like, keep together.”
Mr. Goodman said they was wise men, and, arter a little more talk, he said 'ow would it be if they went out and saw a little bit of the great wicked city? They all said they would, and Ginger got quite excited about it until he found that it meant London.
They got on a bus at Aldgate, and fust of all they went to the British Museum, and when Mr. Goodman was tired o' that—and long arter the others was—they went into a place and 'ad a nice strong cup of tea and a piece o' cake each. When they come out o' there they all walked about looking at the shops until they was tired out, and arter wot Mr. Goodman said was a very improving evening they all went 'ome.