boys in sailor suits, but preferable as a centre of adventure, and here
on an afternoon sat two. They were very busy boasting, but only the
smaller had imagination, and as he used it recklessly, their positions
soon changed; sexless garments was now prone on a step, breeches sitting
on him.

Shovel, a man of seven, had said, "None on your lip. You weren't never
at Thrums yourself."

Tommy's reply was, "Ain't my mother a Thrums woman?"

Shovel, who had but one eye, and that bloodshot, fixed it on him
threateningly.

"The Thames is in London," he said.

"'Cos they wouldn't not have it in Thrums," replied Tommy.

"'Amstead 'Eath's in London, I tell yer," Shovel said.

"The cemetery is in Thrums," said Tommy.

"There ain't no queens in Thrums, anyhow."

"There's the auld licht minister."

"Well, then, if you jest seed Trafalgar Square!"

"If you jest seed the Thrums town-house!"