"I heard him," said Mr. Polly, and looked about. "Just gimme the old poker handle that's under the beer engine." The door opened softly and Mr. Polly turned quickly. But it was only the pointed nose and intelligent face of the young man with the gilt spectacles and discreet manner. He coughed and the spectacles fixed Mr. Polly. "I say," he said with quiet earnestness. "There's a chap out here seems to want someone." "Why don't he come in?" said Mr. Polly. "He seems to want you out there." "What's he want?" "I _think_," said the spectacled young man after a thoughtful moment, "he appears to have brought you a present of fish." "Isn't he shouting?" "He _is_ a little boisterous." "He'd better come in." The manner of the spectacled young man intensified. "I wish you'd come out and persuade him to go away," he said. "His language--isn't quite the thing--ladies." "It never was," said the plump woman, her voice charged with sorrow. Mr. Polly moved towards the door and stood with his hand on the handle. The gold-spectacled face disappeared. "Now, my man," came his voice from outside, "be careful what you're saying--" "Oo in all the World and Hereafter are you to call me, me man?" cried Uncle Jim in the voice of one astonished and pained beyond endurance, and added scornfully: "You gold-eyed Geezer, you!" "Tut, tut!" said the gentleman in gilt glasses. "Restrain yourself!" Mr. Polly emerged, poker in hand, just in time to see what followed. Uncle Jim in his shirtsleeves and a state of ferocious decolletage, was holding something--yes!--a dead eel by means of a piece of newspaper about its tail, holding it down and back and a little sideways in such a way as to smite with it upward and hard. It struck the spectacled gentleman under the jaw with a peculiar dead thud, and a cry of horror came from the two seated parties at the sight. One of the girls shrieked piercingly, "Horace!" and everyone sprang up. The sense of helping numbers came to Mr. Polly's aid. "Drop it!" he cried, and came down the steps waving his poker and thrusting the spectacled gentleman before him as once heroes were wont to wield the ox-hide shield. Uncle Jim gave ground suddenly, and trod upon the foot of a young man in a blue shirt, who immediately thrust at him violently with both hands. "Lea go!" howled Uncle Jim. "That's the chap I'm looking for!" and pressing the head of the spectacled gentleman aside, smote hard at Mr. Polly. But at the sight of this indignity inflicted upon the spectacled gentleman a woman's heart was stirred, and a pink parasol drove hard and true at Uncle Jim's wiry neck, and at the same moment the young man in the blue shirt sought to collar him and lost his grip again. "Suffragettes," gasped Uncle Jim with the ferule at his throat. "Everywhere!" and aimed a second more successful blow at Mr. Polly. "Wup!" said Mr. Polly.