All of which it fell-to my lot to answer, as Jack Smith showed no inclination to assist me.
At length we reached the top of Style Street, where, as usual, the athletic Billy was at his sports.

I really believe he spent the entire time he was not blacking boots in walking round and round his box on the palms of his hands with his feet up in the air.
At the sight of his patron he dropped promptly to attention.
"Well, Billy," said Smith, "are you ready for me ?" Billy grinned all over his face, as he replied, "Yaas," and at once fell-to work.
Hawkesbury watched the incident with interest, not quite sure what to make of it, and rather taken aback to have our walk thus abruptly stopped.
"Old gal's bolted agin," observed Billy, in the middle of his task.
"'Ave any of you blokes saw her ?" "No," said Smith, "when did she go ?" "Last night," said Billy.

"She give me a dose fust, and when I came round, if she ain't sloped along of all my browns.

She's a rum un." Poor Billy, what a picture of his domestic life was this! "Bless you, though," continued he, breathing hard on to the toes of Jack's boot, "she'll turn up.

When she's done them browns she'll step round for more.