His uncle nodded. “Ah, so it does,” 'e ses. “It's all the same whether we spend it on the foaming ocean or pass our little lives ashore. Afore we can turn round, in a manner o' speaking, it 'as gorn.” “The main thing,” ses Peter, in a good voice, “is to pass it properly.” “Then it don't matter,” ses Ginger. “So it don't,” ses Sam, very serious. “I held 'im in my arms when 'e was a baby,” ses Mr. Goodman, looking at Peter. “Fond o' children?” ses Sam. Mr. Goodman nodded. “Fond of everybody,” he ses. “That's 'ow Peter is,” ses Ginger; “specially young——” Peter Russet and Sam both turned and looked at 'im very sharp. “Children,” ses Ginger, remembering 'imself, “and teetotallers. I s'pose it is being a teetotaller 'imself.” “Is Peter a teetotaller?” ses Mr. Goodman. “I'd no idea of it. Wot a joyful thing!” “It was your example wot put it into his 'ead fust, I b'leeve,” ses Sam, looking at Peter for 'im to notice 'ow clever he was. “And then, Sam and Ginger Dick being teetotallers too,” ses Peter, “we all, natural-like, keep together.” Mr. Goodman said they was wise men, and, arter a little more talk, he said 'ow would it be if they went out and saw a little bit of the great wicked city? They all said they would, and Ginger got quite excited about it until he found that it meant London. They got on a bus at Aldgate, and fust of all they went to the British Museum, and when Mr. Goodman was tired o' that—and long arter the others was—they went into a place and 'ad a nice strong cup of tea and a piece o' cake each. When they come out o' there they all walked about looking at the shops until they was tired out, and arter wot Mr. Goodman said was a very improving evening they all went 'ome. Sam and Ginger went 'ome just for the look 'o the thing, and arter waiting a few minutes in their room they crept downstairs agin to spend wot was left of the evening. They went down as quiet as mice, but, for all that, just as they was passing Mr. Goodman's room the door opened, and Peter, in a polite voice, asked 'em to step inside. “We was just thinking you'd be dull up there all alone,” he ses. Sam lost 'is presence o' mind, and afore he knew wot 'e was doing 'im and Ginger 'ad walked in and sat down. They sat there for over an hour and a 'arf talking, and then Sam, with a look at Ginger, said they must be going, because he 'ad got to call for a pair o' boots he 'ad left to be mended. “Why, Sam, wot are you thinking of?” ses Peter, who didn't want anybody to 'ave wot he couldn't. “Why, the shop's shut.” “I don't think so,” ses Sam, glaring at 'im. “Anyway, we can go and see.”