ed on twelve, and there
were twenty. She beckoned to Jonah, and they whispered together for a
minute. He counted some money into her hand, and cried,

"Let 'er go; it's only once in a lifetime."

Then Mrs Yabsley, as hostess, went to each in turn, asking what they
preferred. The choice was limited to green peas, hot pies, and
saveloys, and as each chose, she ticked it off on a piece of paper in
hieroglyphics known only to herself, as she was used to number the
shirts and collars. Joey, impressed by the magnitude of the order, got
down from his perch in the cart and helped to serve the guests. And he
passed in and out among the expectant crowd, helping them to make a
choice, like a chef anxious to please even the most fastidious palates.

Cups, saucers, plates, and basins were pressed into service until Mrs
Yabsley's stock ran out; the last served were forced to hold their
delicacy wrapped in a scrap of paper in their hands, the hot grease
sweating through the thin covering on to their fingers. The ladies
hesitated, fearful of being thought vulgar if they ate in their usual
manner; but Mrs Yabsley seeing their embarrassment, cried out that
fingers were made before forks, and bit a huge piece out of her pie.

Then the feast began in silence, except for the sound of chewing. Joey
had surpassed himself. The peas melted in your mouth, the piecrusts
were a marvel, and the saveloys were done to a turn. And they ate with
solemn, serious faces, for it was not every day the chance came to fill
their bellies with such dainties. Joey, with an eye to business,
decided to stay in the street on the chance of selling out, for the
crowd had now reached to the gutter. He rattled the shining lids of
the hot cans from time to time to attract attention as his cracked
voice chanted his familiar cry,

"Peas an' pies, all 'ot, all 'ot!"

And he drove a brisk trade among the uninvited guests, who paid for
their own. Inside, they drank the health of the married couple; but
the dozen of beer barely wet their throats. Jonah and Chook went to
the "Woolpack" with jugs, and the company settled down to the spree.
At intervals the men offered to shout for a few friends, and, borrowing
a dead marine from the heap of empty bottles, shuffled off to the hotel
to get it filled. The noise grew to an uproar--a babel of tongues,
sudden explosions of laughter, and the shuffling of feet.

Suddenly Mrs Yabsley looked at the clock.

"Good Gawd!