best friends a man ever 'ad."

"Captin Dick 'as got arf a crown for you," ses Peter Russet, still
grinning.

"There now," ses Ginger, looking vexed, "if I ain't been and forgot it;
I've on'y got arf a sovereign."

"I can give you change, sir," ses Mrs. Finch. "P'r'aps you'd like to sit
down for five minutes?"

Ginger thanked 'er, and 'im and Peter Russet took a chair apiece in front
o' the fire and began asking old Sam about 'is 'ealth, and wot he'd been
doing since they saw 'im last.

"Fancy your reckernizing his foot," ses Mrs. Finch, coming in with the
change.

"I'd know it anywhere," ses Peter, who was watching Ginger pretending to
give Sam Small the 'arf-dollar, and Sam pretending in a most lifelike
manner to take it.

Ginger Dick looked round the room. It was a comfortable little place,
with pictures on the walls and antimacassars on all the chairs, and a row
of pink vases on the mantelpiece. Then 'e looked at Mrs. Finch, and
thought wot a nice-looking woman she was.

"This is nicer than being aboard ship with a crew o' nasty, troublesome
sailormen to look arter, Captin Small," he ses.