those eyes like saucers, and red hair. It used to be called "carrots" in
those days. Now all the swells have taken it up--or as near as they can
get to it--and it's auburn.

"'Enery," he replied to me, without so much as turning a hair, "I'm
afraid you're forgetting your position. When I'm on the kerb shouting
'Speshul!' and you comes to me with yer 'a'penny in yer 'and, you're
master an' I'm man. When I comes into your shop to order refreshments,
and to pay for 'em, I'm boss. Savey? You can bring me a rasher and two
eggs, and see that they're this season's. The lidy will have a
full-sized haddick and a cocoa."

Well, there was justice in what he said. He always did have sense, and I
took his order. You don't often see anybody put it away like that girl
did. I took it she hadn't had a square meal for many a long day. She
polished off a ninepenny haddick, skin and all, and after that she had
two penny rashers, with six slices of bread and butter--"doorsteps," as
we used to call them--and two half pints of cocoa, which is a meal in
itself the way we used to make it. "Kipper" must have had a bit of luck
that day. He couldn't have urged her on more had it been a free feed.

"'Ave an egg," he suggested, the moment the rashers had disappeared. "One
of these eggs will just about finish yer."

"I don't really think as I can," says she, after considering like.

"Well, you know your own strength," he answers. "Perhaps you're best
without it. Speshully if yer not used to 'igh living."

I was glad to see them finish, 'cause I was beginning to get a bit