"Good Gawd!" she cried. "to-morrer's Sunday, an' there ain't a bite or
sup in the blessed 'ouse!"

In the excitement of the wedding she had forgotten her weekly shopping.
It was a catastrophe. But Chook had an idea.

"Cum on, blokes," he cried, "'oo'll cum down the road wi' Mother, an' 'elp
carry the tucker? Blimey, I reckon it's 'er night out!"

A dozen volunteered, with a shout of applause. Jonah and Ada were left to
entertain the guests, and the party set out. The grocer was going to bed,
and the shop was in darkness, but they banged so fiercely on the door that
he leaned over the balcony in his shirt, convinced that the Push had come
to wreck his shop. Yet he came down, distressed in his shopkeeper's soul
at the thought of losing his profit. He served her in haste, terrified by
the boisterous noise of her escort.

Then they walked up the Road, shrieking with laughter, bumping against the
passengers, who hurried past with scared looks. It was a triumphal
procession to the butcher's and the greengrocer's Mrs Yabsley, radiant
with beer, gave her orders royally, her bodyguard, seizing on every
purchase, fighting for the privilege of carrying it. The procession
turned into Cardigan Street again, laden with provisions, yelling scraps
of song, rousing the street with ungodly clamour.

Old Dad met them at the corner of Cooper Street. He stood for a moment,
lurching with unpremeditated steps to the front and rear, astonished by
the noise and the crowd. Then he recognized Mrs Yabsley, and became
suddenly excited, under the impression that she was being taken to the
lock-up by the police. He lurched gallantly into the throng, calling on