The Cricketers' Arms
'I don't want no chin from you!' said the Old Dear with a ferocious scowl. 'If you want to make that row you can go somewheres else, and the sooner you goes the better. You've been 'ere long enough.'
This was true. The man had been there long enough to spend every penny in his pocket. He had no money left now, a fact that the observant and experienced landlord had divined some time ago. He therefore wished to get rid of the fellow before he became helplessly drunk. The Semi-Drunk listened with indignation and wrath to the landlord's insulting words.
'I shall go when the bloody 'ell I like!' he shouted. 'I shan't ask you nor nobody else! Who the bloody 'ell are you? You're nobody! See? Nobody! It's orf the likes of me that you gets your bloody livin'! I shall stop 'ere as long as I bloody well like, and if you don't like it you can go to 'ell!'
'Oh! yer will, will yer?' said the Old Dear. 'We'll soon see about that,' and opening the door at the back of the bar he roared out:
'Alf!'
'Yes, sir,' replied a voice evidently from the basement.
'Just come up 'ere.'
'All right,' replied the voice, and footsteps were heard ascending some stairs.
'You'll see some fun in a minute,' gleefully remarked Crass to Easton.
The polyphone continued to play 'The Boys of the Bulldog Breed.'
Philpot crossed over to the Semi-Drunk. 'Look 'ere, old man,' he whispered, 'take my tip and go 'ome quietly. You'll only git the worst of it, you know.'
'Not me, mate,' replied the other, shaking his head doggedly. ''Ere I am, and 'ere I'm goin' to bloody well stop.'
'No you aint,' replied Philpot coaxingly. 'Look 'ere: I'll tell you wot we'll do. You 'ave just one more 'arf pint along of me, and then we'll both go 'ome together. I'll see you safe 'ome.'
'See me safe 'ome! Wotcher mean?' indignantly demanded the other. 'Do you think I'm drunk?'
'No: certainly not,' replied Philpot, hastily, 'you're all right, as right as I am myself. But you know wot I mean, let's go 'ome. You don't want to stop 'ere all night, do you?'
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