a bottle o' whiskey, a bottle o' rum, a bottle o' brandy, a bottle o'
gin, and two bottles o' wine. The hamper was all decorated with holly,
and a little flag was stuck in the top.

On'y men as belonged was allowed to feel the turkey and the goose, and
arter a time Smith said as 'ow p'r'aps they'd better leave off, and 'e
put all the things back in the hamper and fastened up the lid.

"How are we going to draw the lottery?" ses John Biggs, the blacksmith.

"There'll be twenty-three bits o' paper," ses Smith, "and they'll be
numbered from one to twenty-three. Then they'll be twisted up all the
same shape and put in this 'ere paper bag, which I shall 'old as each man
draws. The chap that draws the paper with the figger on it wins."

He tore up twenty-three bits o' paper all about the same size, and then
with a black-lead pencil 'e put the numbers on, while everybody leaned
over 'im to see fair play. Then he twisted every bit o' paper up and
held them in his 'and.

"Is that satisfactory?" he ses.

"Couldn't be fairer," ses Bill Chambers.

"Mind," ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar
in it and shaking them up, "Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw
fust?"

All of 'em hung back and looked at each other; they all seemed to think
they'd 'ave a better chance when there wasn't so many numbers left in the
bag.

"Come on," ses Smith, the landlord. "Some-body must be fust."

"Go on, George Kettle," ses Bob Pretty. "You're sure to win. I 'ad a
dream you did."

"Go on yourself," ses George.

"I never 'ave no luck," ses Bob; "but if Henery Walker will draw fust,
I'll draw second. Somebody must begin."

"O' course they must," ses Henery, "and if you're so anxious why don't
you 'ave fust try?"

Bob Pretty tried to laugh it off, but they wouldn't 'ave it, and at last
he takes out a pocket-'andkerchief and offers it to Smith, the landlord.

"All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me," he ses.

"There ain't no need for that, Bob," ses Mr. Smith. "You can't see in
the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you."

"Never mind; you blindfold me," ses Bob; "it'll set a good example to the
others."

Smith did it at last, and when Bob Pretty put his 'and in the bag and
pulled out a paper you might ha' heard a pin drop.

"Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith," ses Bob Pretty. "Twenty-
three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck."

Smith rolled out the paper, and th