"But--but you ain't fifty-five," ses Ginger.

"I'm twenty-one," ses the nevy, "but my case is different. There isn't
another young lady like mine in the world. She's different to all the
others, and it ain't likely I'm going to let 'er be snapped up by
somebody else. Fifty-five! Why, 'ow I'm to wait till Christmas I don't
know. She's the prettiest and handsomest gal in the world; and she's
the cleverest one I ever met. You ought to hear 'er laugh. Like music
it is. You'd never forget it."

"Twenty-one is young," ses Ginger, shaking his 'ead. "'Ave you known
'er long?"

"Three months," ses the nevy. "She lives in the same street as I do.
'Ow it is she ain't been snapped up before, I can't think, but she told
me that she didn't care for men till she saw me."

"They all say that," ses Ginger.

"If I've 'ad it said to me once, I've 'ad it said twenty times," ses
Peter, nodding.

"They do it to flatter," ses old Sam, looking as if 'e knew all about
it. "You wait till you are my age, Joe; then you'll know; why I should
ha' been married dozens o' times if I 'adn't been careful."

"P'r'aps it was a bit on both sides," ses Joe, looking at 'is uncle.
"P'r'aps they was careful too. If you only saw my young lady, you
wouldn't talk like that. She's got the truthfullest eyes in the world.
Large grey eyes like a child's, leastways sometimes they are grey and