soda-water with a bottom of
brandy--some people prefer a sermon, but that won't suit you or I. After
your soda and brandy take a good chivy in the open air, and you'll be
all right by dinner-time.

_Jorrocks._ Right I Bliss ye, I shall niver be right again. I can
scarce move out of my chair, I'm so bad--my head's just fit to split in
two--I'm in no state to be seen.

_Yorkshireman._ Oh, pooh!--get your soda-water and brandy, then have
some strong coffee and a red herring, and you'll be all right, and
if you'll find cash, I'll find company, and we'll go and have a lark
together.

_Jorrocks._ Couldn't really be seen out---besides, cash is werry scarce.
By the way, now that I come to think on it, I had a five-pounder in my
breeches last night. Just feel in the pocket of them 'ere nankeens, and
see that Mrs. J---- has not grabbed it to pay Jenner's fee with.

_Yorkshireman_ (feels). No--all right--here it is--No. 10,497--I promise
to pay Mr. Thos. Rippon, or bearer, on demand, five pounds! Let's demand
it, and go and spend the cash.

_Jorrocks._ No, no--put it back--or into the table-drawer, see--fives
are werry scarce with me--can't afford it--must be just before I'm
generous.

_Yorkshireman._ Well, then, J----, you must just stay at home and get
bullied by Mrs. J----, who will be back just now, I dare say, perhaps
followed by Jenner and half Doctors' Commons.

_Jorrocks_. The deuce! I forgot all that--curse Mrs. J---- and the
Commons too. Well, Mr. Yorkshireman, I don't care if I do go with
you--but where shall it be to? Some place where we can be quiet, for I
really am werry bad, and not up to nothing like a lark.

_Yorkshireman_. Suppose we take a sniff of the
briny--Margate--Ramsgate--Broadstairs?

_Jorrocks_. No, none of them places--over-well-known at 'em all--can't
be quiet--get to the lush-crib again, perhaps catch the cholera and go
to Gravesend by mistake. Let's go to the Eel Pye at Twickenham and live
upon fish.

_Yorkshireman_. Fish! you old flat. Why, you know, you'd be the first to
cry out if you had to do so. No, no--let's have no humbug--here, drink
your coffee like a man, and then hustle your purse and see what it will
produce. Why, even Betsey's laughing at the idea of your living upon
fish.

_Jorrocks_. Don't shout so, pray--your woice shoots through every nerve
of my head and distracts me (drinks). This is grand Mocho--quite the
cordial balm of Gilead--werry fine indeed. Now I feel rewiv