"What have you been doing to my flowers?" demanded the other, hotly.

"Flowers?" repeated Mr. Grummit, as though the word were new to him.
"Flowers? What flowers?"

"You know well enough," retorted the constable. "You got over my fence
last night and smashed all my flowers down."

"You be careful wot you're saying," urged Mr. Grummit. "Why, I love
flowers. You don't mean to tell me that all them beautiful flowers wot
you put in so careful 'as been spoiled?"

"You know all about it," said the constable, choking. "I shall take out
a summons against you for it."

"Ho!" said Mr. Grummit. "And wot time do you say it was when I done it?"

"Never you mind the time," said the other.

"Cos it's important," said Mr. Grummit.

"My wife's brother--the one you're so fond of--slept in my 'ouse last
night. He was ill arf the night, pore chap; but, come to think of it,
it'll make 'im a good witness for my innocence."

"If I wasn't a policeman," said Mr. Evans, speaking with great
deliberation, "I'd take hold o' you, Bob Grummit, and I'd give you the
biggest hiding you've ever had in your life."