"Oh, Joe!" said his wife, entreatingly; "and everybody's been so happy!"

"Except me," retorted Joe Billing. "You come down and get my breakfast
ready. If I start early I shall catch Mr. Bill Ricketts on 'is way to
work. And mind, if I find that steam-orgin 'ere when I come 'ome
to-night you'll hear of it."

He left the house with head erect and the light of battle in his eyes,
and, meeting Mr. Ricketts at the corner, gave that justly aggrieved
gentleman the surprise of his life. Elk Street thrilled to the fact that
Mr. Billing had broken out again, and spoke darkly of what the evening
might bring forth. Curious eyes followed his progress as he returned
home from work, and a little later on the news was spread abroad that he
was out and paying off old scores with an ardour that nothing could
withstand.

"And wot about your change of 'art?" demanded one indignant matron, as
her husband reached home five seconds ahead of Mr. Billing and hid in the
scullery.

"It's changed agin," said Mr. Billing, simply.

He finished the evening in the Blue Lion, where he had one bar almost to
himself, and, avoiding his wife's reproachful glance when he arrived
home, procured some warm water and began to bathe his honourable scars.

"Mr. Purnip 'as been round with another gentleman," said his wife.

Mr. Billing said, "Oh!"