"I don't mind 'aving a drop in my beer, Joe," ses Peter Lamb.

"Not to-night, mate," ses Joe; "it's all for Bill. I bought it on
purpose for 'im."

Bill shook 'ands with him, and when Joe called for another pint and put
some more gin in it he said that 'e was the noblest-'arted man that ever
lived.

"You wasn't saying so 'arf an hour ago," ses Peter Lamb.

"'Cos I didn't know 'im so well then," ses Bill Jones.

"You soon change your mind, don't you?" ses Peter.

Bill didn't answer 'im. He was leaning back on the bench and staring at
the bottle as if 'e couldn't believe his eyesight. His face was all
white and shining, and 'is hair as wet as if it 'ad just been dipped in a
bucket o' water.

"See a ghost, Bill?" ses Peter, looking at 'im.

Bill made a 'orrible noise in his throat, and kept on staring at the
bottle till they thought 'e'd gone crazy. Then Jasper Potts bent his
'ead down and began to read out loud wot was on the bottle. "P-o-i--
POISON FOR BILL JONES," he ses, in a voice as if 'e couldn't believe it.

You might 'ave heard a pin drop. Everybody turned and looked at Bill
Jones, as he sat there trembling all over. Then those that could read