"No, thanks, boss," he said.

"You'll forgive me," said Nickie, after wrenching a mouthful from the
back of the pullet, "but you look famished."

"I am," answered the stranger.

"Well, help yourself. These garlic sausage sandwiches are superb. Try the
beer."

Nickie pushed his jam tin forward.

The other shook his head very regretfully.

"I mustn't," he said. "Fact is, my livin' depends on me not eatin', an'
I've got a wife an' kiddies to support."

Nickie paused with the bottle half-way to his mouth.

"Your living depends on your not eating?" he ejaculated. "What, do you
earn anything by starving, then? By Jove, that's a quaint idea."

"I earn all I get by starvin'. My name's Cann--Matty Cann, but I'm known
professionally as Bony-part. Ain't yeh seen me advertisements up the main
street? I'm drawed on a big poster outside Professer Thunder's Museum iv
Marvels, I'm the livin' skelington."

"He isn't ruining himself with your upkeep," Nickie.