"'Wot's the matter with him? I've never seen 'im carry on like that over
a drop of beer before,' ses Ginger, staring.

"'He usually likes it,' ses Peter Russet.

"'Not with a dead mouse in it,' ses Sam, trembling with passion.

"'Mouse?' ses Ginger, innercent-like. 'Mouse? Why, I didn't say it was
in your beer, Sam. Wotever put that into your 'ead?'

"'And made you lose your bet,' ses Peter.

"Then old Sam see 'ow he'd been done, and the way he carried on when the
landlord gave Ginger the 'arf-dollar, and said it was won fair and
honest, was a disgrace. He 'opped about that bar 'arf crazy, until at
last the landlord and 'is brother, and a couple o' soldiers, and a
helpless cripple wot wos selling matches, put 'im outside and told 'im to
stop there.

"He stopped there till Ginger and Peter came out, and then, drawing
'imself up in a proud way, he told 'em their characters and wot he
thought about 'em. And he said 'e never wanted to see wot they called
their faces agin as long as he lived.

"'I've done with you,' he ses, 'both of you, for ever.'

"'All right,' ses Ginger moving off. 'Ta-ta for the present. Let's 'ope
he'll come 'ome in a better temper, Peter.'

"'Ome?' ses Sam, with a nasty laugh, "'ome? D'ye think I'm coming back to