I had gone in to get a glass of ale--into the four-ale bar. The place was pretty full. Scarcely had I begun to absorb my liquid when a gentleman of the nondescript sort, having a remnant of a red handkerchief tied about his neck, favoured me with this inquiry:

"If a party what you knew nothink at all about, and never seed afore in all your dyes, was to ask you to lend 'im ninepence, would you lend it 'im?"

As I thought it possible that the party in question might be himself, I lost no time whatever in replying, "Certainly not."

He turned to a friend with sandy hair and a suit of clothes which, unless he had decreased to half his size since first he had them, must originally have been somebody else's.

"That is what I says. Isn't that what I says? I says I wouldn't. No more I wouldn't."

The friend tilted his cap over his eyes, and he dug the knuckles of his right hand into the back of his head. I have not the faintest notion why. And he held forth thus:

"It was like this here. I was in the bar, yer know, along with some other parties, yer know, as it might be me and you in 'ere, when 'e comes in."

"Who come in?"

"Why this 'ere bloke. He says to me, 'If this ain't a pretty start, what is?' I says, 'What's up now?' He says, 'Just cast your eyes round me.' And he lifts up the tails of 'is coat--'e 'ad a tail-coat on, leastways it 'ad been a tail-coat once--and 'e says, 'Them's trousers.' I says, 'They don't look it.' 'E says, 'They don't. And that's 'ow I'll lose a fortune.' I says, ''Ow do you make that out?' 'E says, 'I'll tell yer, seeing as 'ow you're a friend.'"

"Was 'e a friend of yourn? I thought yer said yer'd never seed 'im afore?"

"More I 'adn't. 'E draws the back of 'is 'and acrost 'is mug, and 'e says, 'I suppose you couldn't spare a sup?' Well, I let 'im 'ave a drop, and 'e pretty nearly drained me. 'I'll tell you all about it,' 'e says. 'It's like this--like this 'ere. I'm a hartist, that's what I am--a profeshunal--yes. And I've got a hingagement to-night at one of the fust music-'alls in London--the very fust. I'm going to do my hextra speshul turn. It'll be worth to me every farden of 'arf-a-quid--yes. And now it's orf.' I says, ''Ow do yer make that out?' 'E pulls up the tails of 'is coat, ''Cause of them. Speaking, as it might be, as one hartist to another hartist, as a hartist, 'ow would you like to go on to do a hextra speshul turn in one of the fust music-'alls in London in them for trousers? And, mind you, mine's a drawin'-room entertainment, and no lies--that's what mine is. Yes, straight.' 'Well,' I says, 'I shouldn't.' 'E says, 'Of course you wouldn't; you couldn't. Why, they'd 'oot at yer. Yes. So I've got to chuck it.' I says, 'That's 'ard.' 'E says,' It is 'ard; it's bitter 'ard--cruel 'ard.' 'E leans agin the counter, and he takes 'old, casual like, of a pewter what belonged to a chap as was be'ind 'im, and 'e lifts it to 'is lips, as if 'e didn't know what 'e was a-doing of. But the chap as the pewter belonged to, 'e grabs 'old of it, and 'e says, 'Excuse me, who's a-payin'?' And this bloke says, seemin' quite took aback-like, 'I beg your pardon, sir. It was a haccident.' And the chap, 'e says, 'We'll call it a haccident,' and he drains the pewter right off, so as to make sure. And this 'ere bloke what I'm a-telling you of, he wipes his mouth agin, and he looks at me. But I wasn't a-taking any. So 'e says, 'And what makes it all the 'arder is what I'm going to tell yer--you bein' a friend o' mine.'"

"I thought you says 'e wasn't a friend o' yourn."

"More 'e wasn't. 'Ow could he be? Don't I tell yer I never saw 'im afore?"

"Well, 'e 'ad got a nerve, 'e 'ad. Some of 'em does 'ave."

"It was only 'is kid, you know. 'E says, 'I've got one of the finest pair of trousers there is in all England--straight, I have. 'Well,' I says, 'if I was you I'd put 'em on.' 'E says, 'They're spouted. I was just a-going to get 'em out when I come in 'ere.' 'Why don't you 'urry,' I says, 'and get 'em out?' 'I can't.' 'Why can't you?' 'Sold the ticket.' 'What for?' 'Tuppence.' 'Can't yer buy it agin?' ''Aven't got the tuppence.' 'I can't make you out,' I says. 'Fust yer say you're going to get your trousers out o' pawn, then yer say you've sold the ticket, then yer say you haven't got the tuppence to buy it back agin. Where do you think you're going to get the tuppence from?' 'E says, 'That's what I want to know. Where am I?' I says, ''Ow much is there on the trousers?' 'E says, 'Sevenpence.' 'What,' I says, 'sevenpence on the finest pair of trousers there is in all England! They must be odd 'uns.' 'I might 'ave 'ad an 'eap o' money,' 'e says, 'an 'eap, but I didn't want it. That's where it was.' 'Was you in funds when you pawned your trousers?' 'Of course I was.' I says, 'I don't see no of course about it.' 'E says, 'Where else was I to put 'em?'

"I says,' Wasn't there your legs? Was yer legs in pawn?' 'E says, 'That's different. I wasn't speakin' about that.' I says,' Well, then, I am.' 'E leans back agin the counter, and 'e looks up at the ceiling, and 'e says, 'Ninepence between me and fortune. Every farden of 'arfa-quid. Perhaps several 'arf-a-quids. If any lady or gentleman'--'e spoke like a reading book--'was to advance me the loan of ninepence for to enable me to clothe my legs with a pair of trousers as was suited to one of the fust music-'alls in London, and as would do credit to any hartist on the boards, I shall not cease for to remember the haction while the breath remains within my body. That is hall I 'ave to say. I say no more.' But 'e'd said enough. You should 'ave 'eard 'im--done yer good. Of course, that 'ushed the patter. No one wasn't going to say nothing after that. Not 'ardly. Presently one woman says, 'I'll give a penny if anyone else will.' This 'ere bloke took off 'is 'at. 'Madam, I thank you; as a hartist I thank you.' Then a lady what was with this other lady says, 'Susan, if you'll give a penny, I'll give a penny too.' Then this 'ere bloke's 'at come off again. Then there was a whip round. But it hung fire a bit. Nobody didn't quite ketch on. So this 'ere other lady, she says, 'It seems 'ard that a man can't earn 'is daily bread 'cause he ain't got no trousers to earn it in, don't it, Susan?' And Susan says, 'It do seem hard.' And this 'ere bloke, 'e says, 'It's cruel 'ard.' Then one chap says, 'I'll give a pennyworth.' And another chap give a pennyworth. And presently there was the ninepence."

"Did you give a pennyworth?"

"Not me."

"Why didn't yer?"

"'Cause I hadn't got it."

"Would yer if yer 'ad?"

"Not me."

"Why wouldn't yer?"

"'Cause 'e was only a kiddin'."

"'Ow d'ye know 'e was only a kiddin'?"

"Anyone could tell 'e was."

"Them other parties couldn't tell 'e was."

"That's their look out."

"'Ere's a bloke what's going to earn 'arfa-quid----"

"'E warn't going to earn no 'arf-a-quid no more than you are."

"If I wanted yer to lend me ninepence, would yer lend it me?"

"No."

"Why wouldn't yer?"

"'Cause I 'aven't got it."

"You never don't seem to 'ave nothink."

"I 'ave as much as you, perhaps, once in a while."

"I've just stood yer 'arf a pint."

"And I've stood you 'arf a pint more than once, and more than twice."

"I don't say you 'aven't." The original speaker turned to me. "If a friend was to ask you to lend 'im ninepence, wouldn't you lend it 'im?

"That would depend on whether I had it."

"You, being a gentleman, of course you would have it."

I had finished my ale. I sidled towards the door.

"I fear that does not necessarily follow."

The man advanced.

"Look 'ere, if I was to ask you to lend me ninepence----"

"Excuse me. I'm afraid I must be off."

And I was off.

I have a moral conviction that if I had stayed much longer that man would have tried to wriggle ninepence out of me.