"'Who are you?' ses Sam, 'and wot are you a-doing of in my bed?'
"'It's our lodger,' ses Ginger.
"'Your wot?' ses Sam, 'ardly able to believe his ears.
"'Our lodger,' ses Peter Russet. 'We've let 'im the bed you said you
didn't want for sixpence a night. Now you take yourself off.'
"Old Sam couldn't speak for a minute; there was no words that he knew bad
enough, but at last he licks 'is lips and he ses, 'I've paid for that bed
up to Saturday, and I'm going to have it.'
"He rushed at the lodger, but Peter and Ginger got hold of 'im agin and
put 'im down on the floor and sat on 'im till he promised to be'ave
himself. They let 'im get up at last, and then, arter calling themselves
names for their kind-'artedness, they said if he was very good he might
sleep on the floor.
"Sam looked at 'em for a moment, and then, without a word, he took off
'is boots and put on 'is coat and went up in a corner to be out of the
draught, but, wot with the cold and 'is temper, and the hardness of the
floor, it was a long time afore 'e could get to sleep. He dropped off at
last, and it seemed to 'im that he 'ad only just closed 'is eyes when it
was daylight.
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