"A ginger-beer bottle," ses Peter Russet, making faces at Ginger to keep
quiet.

"Yes, o' course, that's wot I meant," ses Ginger.

Old Sam wiped the cocoa off 'is knees without saying a word, but his
weskit kept going up and down till Peter Russet felt quite sorry for 'im.

"There's nothing like it," he ses to Mrs. Finch. "It was by sticking to
ginger-beer and milk and such-like that Captain Small 'ad command of a
ship afore 'e was twenty-five."

"Lor'!" ses Mrs. Finch.

She smiled at old Sam till Peter got uneasy agin, and began to think
p'r'aps 'e'd been praising 'im too much.

"Of course, I'm speaking of long ago now," he ses.

"Years and years afore you was born, ma'am," ses Ginger.

Old Sam was going to say something, but Mrs. Finch looked so pleased that
'e thought better of it. Some o' the cocoa 'e was drinking went the
wrong way, and then Ginger patted 'im on the back and told 'im to be
careful not to bring on 'is brownchitis agin. Wot with temper and being
afraid to speak for fear they should let Mrs. Finch know that 'e wasn't a
captin, he could 'ardly bear 'imself, but he very near broke out when
Peter Russet advised 'im to 'ave his weskit lined with red flannel. They
all stayed on till closing time, and by the time they left they 'ad made