pork-butcher's shop_. There was joints o' pork 'anging from the ceiling,
two brine tubs as full as they could be, and quite a string of fowls and
ducks all ready for market.

"'Wot d'ye mean by coming into my 'ouse?' ses Bob Pretty, blustering.
'If you don't clear out pretty quick, I'll make you.'

"Nobody answered 'im; they was all examining 'ands o' pork and fowls and
such-like.

"'There's the tiger,' ses Henery Walker, pointing at Bob Pretty; 'that's
wot old man Parsley meant.'

"'Somebody go and fetch Policeman White,' ses a voice.

"'I wish they would,' ses Bob Pretty. "I'll 'ave the law on you all for
breaking into my 'ouse like this, see if I don't.'

"'Where'd you get all this pork from?' ses the blacksmith.

"'And them ducks and hins?' ses George Kettle.

"'That's my bisness,' ses Bob Pretty, staring 'em full in the face. 'I
just 'ad a excellent oppertunity offered me of going into the pork and
poultry line and I took it. Now, all them as doesn't want to buy any
pork or fowls go out o' my house.'

"'You're a thief, Bob Pretty!' says Henery Walker. 'You stole it all.'

"'Take care wot you're saying, Henery,' ses Bob Pretty, 'else I'll make