"Are you old Bill?" he ses.

"I'm the watchman," I ses, sharp-like. "Wot d'you want?"

"Don't bite me!" he ses, purtending to draw back. "I ain't done no 'arm.
I've come round about that glass you smashed at the Bear's Head."

"Glass!" I ses, 'ardly able to speak.

"Yes, glass," he ses--"thing wot yer drink out of. The landlord says
it'll cost you a tanner, and 'e wants it now in case you pass away in
your sleep. He couldn't come 'imself cos he's got nobody to mind the
bar, so 'e sent me. Why! Halloa! Where's your boots? Ain't you afraid
o' ketching cold?"

"You clear off," I ses, shouting at him. "D'ye 'ear me? Clear off while
you're safe, and you tell the landlord that next time 'e insults me I'll
smash every glass in 'is place and then sit 'im on top of 'cm! Tell 'im
if 'e wants a tanner out o' me, to come round 'imself, and see wot he
gets."

It was a silly thing to say, and I saw it arterwards, but I was in such a
temper I 'ardly knew wot I was saying. I slammed the wicket in 'is face
and turned the key and then I took off my clothes and went down that
ladder agin.

It seemed colder than ever, and the mud when I got fairly into it was
worse than I thought it could ha' been. It stuck to me like glue, and
every step I took seemed colder than the one before. 'Owever, when I