The crowd withdrew a little.

"Say, Guv'nor!--do they call you Tinee?" called one.

"No; his name's Silver," said another. "They calls you Silver Mug, don't
they, mister?"

"I believe so," replied the young man, unmoved.

He was fair game: for he was very big, clearly good-humoured, spick and
span to a fault, and a member of another class.

They gathered with glee to the baiting.

"That ain't because of his name, stoopid. That's because he's got a
silver linin' to his mug, ain't it, sir?"

"Silver!--gold, you mean. 'E breathes gold, that bloke do, and then it
settles on the roof of his jaw. Say, Blokey, open your mug and let's
'ave a peep. I'll put a penny in."

* * * * *

A little red ball was run up an improvised pole. Old Mat was waving.

"All right," he called.

The girl led Goosey Gander out of the Paddock into the field at the
back. Women in parti-coloured shawls selling oranges, labourers,
riff-raff, and children were gathered about the merry-go-rounds and