FIFTH B. (_pathetically_). Don't leave your little Freddy out! (_They don't leave their little FREDDY out._) Cheer up, William, there's 'appier days in store; there'll be Jersey comin' soon. We'll be orf to the sunny south! (_To a stranger who comes up to him._) Why, Uncle, you don't say it's you! How _well_ you're looking! Shake 'ands and 'ave a bit on, jest for ole sake's sake! (_The stranger proceeds to introduce himself as the Secretary, and to demand a fee._) What! pay you five shillins for standin' 'ere wastin' my time and voice like this? Not me! Why, I ain't took two blessed sorcepans since I bin 'ere! (_The Secretary remains firm._) I won't do it, my boy. Not on _prinserple_, I won't. I wouldn't give you five shillins not if your tongue was 'anging down on to your boots--so there! (_The Secretary does not attempt so violent an appeal to his better nature, but calls a police-inspector._) 'Ere, I'd sooner git down and chuck the show altogether; jest to mark my contempt for such goings on! (_He descends from his box; takes down his sign, unscrews his pole, folds up his professional triptych, and departs in a state of virtuous indignation only to be expressed by extreme profanity, while the Secretary proceeds unmoved to collect payments from the others; who eventually compromise the claims for half-a-crown._) MR. SAM SATCHELL (_"from Southampton"_). Now then, you gentlemen and aristocratic tradesmen, where _are_ you all? Don't any o' you know _anything_? Come on 'ere. (_He stops an elderly rustic._) You've got a fancy, I can see! (_The rustic denies the impeachment, grinning._) Git along with yer, yer artful ole puss, then, and don't keep gentlemen away as wants to bet! (_To a Yeomanry trooper._) Come along, my ole soldier-boy, give it a name! (_His old soldier-boy declines to give it any name, and passes on._) Call yerself a warrior bold, and afraid o' riskin' 'alf-a-crown! Why, yer Queen and country orter be ashamed o' yer! (_As a young farmer in riding-gaiters comes up, with the evident_ _intention of business._) Ah, _you_ don't forget the old firm, I see.... What, four to one not good enough for you? You won't get no better odds, go where you _like_! I suppose you expeck me to make you a present o' the money? (_The farmer moves on._) I dunno what's _come_ to 'em all. _I_ never see nothing like it in all _my_ life! _In the Grand Stand._