words ‘Cheat!’ ‘Rogue!’ and ‘You filched away the pea!’ were used freely by more voices than one, to which the voice with the tendency to lisp replied, ‘Never filched a pea in my life; would scorn it. Always glad when folks wins; but, as those here don’t appear to be civil, nor to wish to play any more, I shall take myself off with my table; so, good-day, gentlemen.’ CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE SINGULAR TABLE—NO MONEY—OUT OF EMPLOY—MY BONNET—WE OF THE THIMBLE—GOOD WAGES—WISELY RESOLVED—STRANGEST WAY IN THE WORLD—FAT GENTLEMAN—NOT SUCH ANOTHER—FIRST EDITION—NOT EASY—WON’T CLOSE—AVELLA GORGIO—ALARMED LOOK Presently a man emerged from the tent, bearing before him a rather singular table; it appeared to be of white deal, was exceedingly small at the top, and with very long legs. At a few yards from the entrance he paused, and looked round, as if to decide on the direction which he should take; presently, his eye glancing on me as I lay upon the ground, he started, and appeared for a moment inclined to make off as quick as possible, table and all. In a moment, however, he seemed to recover assurance, and, coming up to the place where I was, the long legs of the table projecting before him, he cried, ‘Glad to see you here, my lord.’ ‘Thank you,’ said I, ‘it’s a fine day.’ ‘Very fine, my lord; will your lordship play? Them that finds, wins—them that don’t finds, loses.’ ‘Play at what?’ said I. ‘Only at the thimble and pea, my lord.’ ‘I never heard of such a game.’ ‘Didn’t you? Well, I’ll soon teach you,’ said he, placing the table down. ‘All you have to do is to put a sovereign down on my table, and to find the pea, which I put under one of my thimbles. If you find it,—and it is easy enough to find it,—I give you a sovereign besides your own: for them that finds, wins.’ ‘And them that don’t finds, loses,’ said I; ‘no, I don’t wish to play.’ ‘Why not, my lord?’ ‘Why, in the first place, I have no money.’ ‘Oh, you have no money, that of course alters the case. If you have no money, you can’t play. Well, I suppose I must be seeing after my customers,’ said he, glancing over the plain. ‘Good-day,’ said I. ‘Good-day,’ said the man slowly, but without moving, and as if in reflection. After a moment or two, looking at me inquiringly, he added, ‘Out of employ?’ ‘Yes,’ said I, ‘out of employ.’ The man measured me with his eye as I lay on the ground. At length he said, ‘May I speak a word or two to you, my lord?’ ‘As many as you please,’ said I. ‘Then just come a little out of hearing, a little farther on the grass, if you please, my lord.’ ‘Why do you call me my lord?’ said I, as I arose and followed him. ‘We of the thimble always calls our customers lords,’ said the man; ‘but I won’t call you such a foolish name any more; come along.’