He talked about the different
kinds of drink as they walked along till Sam, wot was looking for a high-
class pub, got such a raging thirst on 'im he hardly knew wot to do with
'imself. He passed several pubs, and walked on as fast as he could to
the Three Widders.
"Do you want to go in there partikler?" ses the man, stopping at the
door.
"No," ses Sam, staring.
"'Cos I know a place where they sell the best glass o' port wine in
London," ses the man.
He took Sam up two or three turnings, and then led him into a quiet
little pub in a back street. There was a cosy little saloon bar with
nobody in it, and, arter Sam had 'ad two port wines for the look of the
thing, he 'ad a pint o' six-ale because he liked it. His new pal had one
too, and he 'ad just taken a pull at it and wiped his mouth, when 'e
noticed a little bill pinned up at the back of the bar.
"_Lost, between--the Mint and--Tower Stairs,_" he ses, leaning forward
and reading very slow, "_a gold--locket--set with--diamonds. Whoever
will--return--the same to--Mr.
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