take 'em."

"You?" ses Ginger; "but you can't. You ain't got no clothes."

"I'm going to wear Peter's," ses Isaac, with a smile.

Peter asked 'im to listen to reason, but it was all no good. He'd got
the pawn-ticket, and at last Peter, forgetting all he'd said to Ginger
Dick about using bad langwidge, took 'is clothes off, one by one, and
dashed 'em on the floor, and told Isaac some of the things 'e thought of
'im.

The old man didn't take any notice of 'im. He dressed 'imself up very
slow and careful in Peter's clothes, and then 'e drove 'em nearly crazy
by wasting time making 'is bed.

"Be as quick as you can, Isaac," ses Ginger, at last; "think of us two
a-sitting 'ere waiting for you."

"I sha'n't forget it," ses Isaac, and 'e came back to the door after 'e'd
gone arf-way down the stairs to ask 'em not to go out on the drink while
'e was away.

It was nine o'clock when he went, and at ha'-past nine Ginger began to
get impatient and wondered wot 'ad 'appened to 'im, and when ten o'clock
came and no Isaac they was both leaning out of the winder with blankets
over their shoulders looking up the road. By eleven o'clock Peter was in
very low spirits and Ginger was so mad 'e was afraid to speak to 'im.

They spent the rest o' that day 'anging out of the winder, but it was not
till ha'-past four in the after-noon that Isaac, still wearing Peter's
clothes and carrying a couple of large green plants under 'is arm, turned
into the road, and from the way 'e was smiling they thought it must be
all right.

"Wot 'ave you been such a long time for?" ses Ginger, in a low, fierce
voice, as Isaac stopped underneath the winder and nodded up to 'em.

"I met a old friend," ses Isaac.

"Met a old friend?" ses Ginger, in a passion. "Wot d'ye mean, wasting
time like that while we was sitting up 'ere waiting and starving?"

"I 'adn't seen 'im for years," ses Isaac, "and time slipped away afore I
noticed it."

"I dessay," ses Ginger, in a bitter voice. "Well, is the money all
right?"

"I don't know," ses Isaac; "I ain't got the clothes."

"Wot?" ses Ginger, nearly falling out of the winder. "Well, wot 'ave
you done with mine, then? Where are they? Come upstairs."

"I won't come upstairs, Ginger," ses Isaac, "because I'm not quite sure
whether I've done right. But I'm not used to going into pawnshops, and I
walked about trying to make up my mind to go in and couldn't."

"Well, wot did you do then?" ses Ging