[The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell]@TWC D-Link book
The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists

CHAPTER 19
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He was beginning to show the effects of the drink he had taken during that time.
As Crass and the others came in they were hailed with enthusiasm by the landlord and the Besotted Wretch, while the semi-drunk workman regarded them with fishy eyes and stupid curiosity.
'Wot cheer, Bob ?' said the landlord, affably, addressing Crass, and nodding familiarly to the others.

''Ow goes it ?' 'All reet me ole dear!' replied Crass, jovially.

''Ow's yerself ?' 'A.1,' replied the 'Old Dear', getting up from his chair in readiness to execute their orders.
'Well, wot's it to be ?' inquired Philpot of the others generally.
'Mine's a pint o' beer,' said Crass.
'Half for me,' said Bundy.
'Half o' beer for me too,' replied Easton.
'That's one pint, two 'arves, and a pint o' porter for meself,' said Philpot, turning and addressing the Old Dear.
While the landlord was serving these drinks the Besotted Wretch finished his beer and set the empty glass down on the counter, and Philpot observing this, said to him: ''Ave one along o' me ?' 'I don't mind if I do,' replied the other.
When the drinks were served, Philpot, instead of paying for them, winked significantly at the landlord, who nodded silently and unobtrusively made an entry in an account book that was lying on one of the shelves.

Although it was only Monday and he had been at work all the previous week, Philpot was already stony broke.

This was accounted for by the fact that on Saturday he had paid his landlady something on account of the arrears of board and lodging money that had accumulated while he was out of work; and he had also paid the Old Dear four shillings for drinks obtained on tick during the last week.
'Well, 'ere's the skin orf yer nose,' said Crass, nodding to Philpot, and taking a long pull at the pint glass which the latter had handed to him.
Similar appropriate and friendly sentiments were expressed by the others and suitably acknowledged by Philpot, the founder of the feast.
The Old Dear now put a penny in the slot of the polyphone, and winding it up started it playing.


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