_The Y. M._ 'Ark at 'im--there's a discontented ole josser for yer! I carn't put 'arf a sov'rin' in _all_ o' the packets, not and make my expenses. P'raps you'll 'ave better luck next time. [_The packets are in more demand than ever._ _The Agr. L._ May I open this 'ere packet now, Master? _The Y. M._ If you don't tell nobody what's in it, you may. I've sold as many as I keer to a' ready. _The Agr. L._ (_opening the parcel, and finding a toy-watch of the value of one farthing sterling_). 'Ere, I'll give yer this back--'tain't no good to me! _The Y. M._ (_with concern_). I'm reelly very sorry, Sir, I've given you a wrong 'un by mistake. I _quite_ fancied as----Allow me to apologise, and, as a proof I 'aven't lost your good opinion, give me a penny for this one. [_He selects a packet with great care from the heap._ _The A. L._ You don't take me in no moor--I'd sooner make ye a _present_ o' the penny! _The Y. M._ (_wounded_). Don't talk like that, Sir--you'll be sorry for it afterwards! (_In a whisper._) It's all right _this_ time, s'elp me! _The A. L._ I know as it's a kitch o' some sort ... --hows'ever, jest this once. (_He purchases another packet, and is rewarded by an eyeglass, constructed of cardboard and coloured gelatine, which he flings into the circle in a fury._) 'Tis nobbut a darned swindle--and I've done wi' ye! Ye're all a pack o' rogues together! [Exit, amidst laughter from the rest, whose confidence, however, has been rewarded by very similar results. _The Y. M._ He don't know what he's lost by givin' way to his narsty temper--but there, _I_ forgive 'im! (_He begins to replace the remaining parcels in the chest; one packet escapes his notice, and is instantly pounced upon by a sharp, but penniless urchin._) Now, Gentlemen, I'm 'ere reppersentin' two Charitable Institootions--the Blind Asylum, and the Idjut Orfins--but I'm bloomin' sorry to say that, _this_ time, arter I've deducted my little trifling commission, there'll be a bloomin' little to 'and over to either o' them deservin' Sercieties; so, thenkin' you all, and wishin' you bloomin' good luck, and 'appiness and prosperity through life, I'll say good-bye to yer. _The Sharp Urchin_ (_after retiring to a safe distance with his booty._) Theer's _summat_ inside of 'un--I can 'ear un a-rartlin' ... 'ow many _moor_ wrops! 'Tis money, fur sartin!... (_Removes the last wrapping._) Nawthen but a silly owld cough-drop! (_He calls after the_ Young Man, _who is retreating with_ Mr. Fairplay, _and his spotty friend._) I've a blamed good mind to 'ave th' Lar on ye fur that, I hev--a chatin' foaks i' sech a way! Why don't ye act honest? [_Is left masticating the cough-lozenge in speechless indignation._ * * * * * "THE SINS OF SOCIETY."