don't mean it.'

'Well, I've got three, and I'm not goin' to 'ave no more bli'me if I
will; 'tain't good enough--that's wot I says.'

'You're abaht right there, ole gal,' said Polly, 'My word, 'Arry, if
you 'ave any more I'll git a divorce, that I will.'

At that moment an organ-grinder turned the corner and came down the
street.

'Good biz; 'ere's an organ!' cried half a dozen people at once.

The organ-man was an Italian, with a shock of black hair and a
ferocious moustache. Drawing his organ to a favourable spot, he
stopped, released his shoulder from the leather straps by which he
dragged it, and cocking his large soft hat on the side of his head,
began turning the handle. It was a lively tune, and in less than no
time a little crowd had gathered round to listen, chiefly the young
men and the maidens, for the married ladies were never in a fit state
to dance, and therefore disinclined to trouble themselves to stand
round the organ. There was a moment's hesitation at opening the ball;
then one girl said to another:

'Come on, Florrie, you and me ain't shy; we'll begin, and bust it!'

The two girls took hold of one another, one acting gentleman, the
other lady; three or four more pairs of girls immediately joined them,
and they began a waltz. They held themselves very upright; and with an
air of grave dignity which was quite impressive, glided slowly about,