_O.B.F._ There, ye see, I'm as often wrong as not myself. (_To the
Sp.-F.M._) There's your four bob, Sir. Now, jest once more!

_Joe_ (_to MELIA_). I'll git the price o' that theer cup an' sarcer
out of 'un, any'ow. (_To O.B.F._) I'll ha' a tanner wi' ye!

_O.B.F._ 'Alf a soverin, if you like--it's all the same to me!

_Joe_ (_after pricking_). I _thart_ I 'ad 'un that time, too, I did!

_The Sm. Y.M._ You shouldn't ha' changed your mind--you were right
enough afore!

_Joe_. Yes, I should ha' stuck to it. (_To O.B.F._) I'll bet ye two
bob on the next go--come!

_O.B.F._ Well, I don't like to say no, though I can see, plain enough,
you know too much. (_JOE pricks; O.B.F. pulls away the strip,
and leaves the skewer outside._) I could ha' sworn you done me that
time--but there ye _are_, ye see, there's never no tellin' at this
game--and that's the charm on it!

[_JOE walks on with MELIA in a more subdued frame of mind._

_The Sm. Y.M._ (_in the ear of the Spotty-faced One_). I say, I got
a job o' my own to attend to--jest pass the word to the Old Man, when
he's done with this pitch, to turn up beyind the swing-boats there,
and come along yourself, if yer can. It's the old lay I'm on--the
prize-packets fake.