While the landlord was serving these drinks the Besotted Wretch finished his beer and set the empty glass down on the counter, and Philpot observing this, said to him:
`'Ave one along o' me?'
`I don't mind if I do,' replied the other.
When the drinks were served, Philpot, instead of paying for them, winked significantly at the landlord, who nodded silently and unobtrusively made an entry in an account book that was lying on one of the shelves.Although it was only Monday and he had been at work all the previous week, Philpot was already stony broke.This was accounted for by the fact that on Saturday he had paid his landlady something on account of the arrears of board and lodging money that had accumulated while he was out of work; and he had also paid the Old Dear four shillings for drinks obtained on tick during the last week.
`Well, 'ere's the skin orf yer nose,' said Crass, nodding to Philpot, and taking a long pull at the pint glass which the latter had handed to him.
Similar appropriate and friendly sentiments were expressed by the others and suitably acknowledged by Philpot, the founder of the feast.
The Old Dear now put a penny in the slot of the polyphone, and winding it up started it playing.It was some unfamiliar tune, but when the Semi-drunk Painter heard it he rose unsteadily to his feet and began shuffling and dancing about, singing:
'Oh, we'll inwite you to the wedding, An' we'll 'ave a glorious time!
Where the boys an' girls is a-dancing, An' we'll all get drunk on wine.'
`'Ere! that's quite enough o' that!' cried the landlord, roughly.`We don't want that row 'ere.'
The Semi-drunk stopped, and looking stupidly at the Old Dear, sank abashed on to the seat again.
`Well, we may as well sit as stand - for a few minutes,' remarked Crass, suiting the action to the word.The others followed his example.
At frequent intervals the bar was entered by fresh customers, most of them working men on their way home, who ordered and drank their pint or half-pint of ale or porter and left at once.Bundy began reading the advertisement of the circus and menageries and a conversation ensued concerning the wonderful performances of the trained animals.
The Old Dear said that some of them had as much sense as human beings, and the manner with which he made this statement implied that he thought it was a testimonial to the sagacity of the brutes.He further said that he had heard - a little earlier in the evening - a rumour that one of the wild animals, a bear or something, had broken loose and was at present at large.This was what he had heard - he didn't know if it were true or not.For his own part he didn't believe it, and his hearers agreed that it was highly improbable.
Nobody ever knew how these silly yarns got about.
Presently the Besotted Wretch got up and, taking the india-rubber rings out of the net with a trembling hand, began throwing them one at a time at the hooks on the.board.The rest of the company watched him with much interest, laughing when he made a very bad shot and applauding when he scored.
`'E's a bit orf tonight,' remarked Philpot aside to Easton, 'but as a rule 'e's a fair knockout at it.Throws a splendid ring.'
The Semidrunk regarded the proceedings of the Besotted Wretch with an expression of profound contempt.
`You can't play for nuts,' he said scornfully.
`Can't I? I can play you, anyway.'
`Right you are! I'll play you for drinks round!' cried the Semi-drunk.
For a moment the Besotted Wretch hesitated.He had not money enough to pay for drinks round.However, feeling confident of winning, he replied:
`Come on then.What's it to be? Fifty up?'
`Anything you like! Fifty or a 'undred or a bloody million!'
`Better make it fifty for a start.'
`All right!'
`You play first if you like.'
`All right,' agreed the Semi-drunk, anxious to distinguish himself.
Holding the six rings in his left hand, the man stood in the middle of the floor at a distance of about three yards from the board, with his right foot advanced.Taking one of the rings between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand, and closing his left eye, he carefully `sighted' the centre hook, No.13; then he slowly extended his arm to its full length in the direction of the board: then bending his elbow, he brought his hand back again until it nearly touched his chin, and slowly extended his arm again.He repeated these movements several times, whilst the others watched with bated breath.Getting it right at last he suddenly shot the ring at the board, but it did not go on No.13; it went over the partition into the private bar.
This feat was greeted with a roar of laughter.The player stared at the board in a dazed way, wondering what had become of the ring.When someone in the next bar threw it over the partition again, he realized what had happened and, turning to the company with a sickly smile, remarked:
`I ain't got properly used to this board yet: that's the reason of it.'
He now began throwing the other rings at the board rather wildly, without troubling to take aim.One struck the partition to the right of the board: one to the left: one underneath: one went over the counter, one on the floor, the other - the last - hit the board, and amid a shout of applause, caught on the centre hook No.13, the highest number it was possible to scare with a single throw.
`I shall be all right now that I've got the range,' observed the Semi-drunk as he made way for his opponent.
`You'll see something now,' whispered Philpot to Easton.'This bloke is a dandy!'
The Besotted Wretch took up his position and with an affectation of carelessness began throwing the rings.It was really a remarkable exhibition, for notwithstanding the fact that his hand trembled like the proverbial aspen leaf, he succeeded in striking the board almost in the centre every time; but somehow or other most of them failed to catch on the hooks and fell into the net.When he finished his innings, he had only scored 4, two of the rings having caught on the No.2 hook.
