Having ascertained, by a peep down your friend's area, that there is a turkey on the spit, and calling, accidentally, of course, about dinner-time, you feel rather sheepish when the cold mutton is brought up, and learn, in the course of the evening, that the kitchen fire had been lent for the dinner party of the next-door neighbour.
Abusing a person whom you have never seen, to a respectable-looking stranger, who, after apparently nodding assent, with the patience of a martyr, quietly observes that he is the man. The unpleasant anticipation of loose teeth, as you see him making up his bunch of fives.
Floored by the Leger.
VI.
Tom bets apace at Ascot race:
Ah, Tom, it's all a do!
You're backing yellow, you stupid fellow,
And look, the winner's blue!