Page:The history of Mr. Polly.djvu/168

 “Who says steak and kidney pie?” bawled Mr. Voules. “Who says steak and kidney pie? You ’ave a drop of old Tommy, Martha. That’s what you want to steady you Sit down everyone and don’t all speak at once. Who says steak and kidney pie?”

“Vocificeratious,” whispered Mr. Polly. “Convivial vocificerations.”

“Bit of ’am with it,” shouted Mr. Voules, poising a slice of ham on his knife. “Anyone ’ave a bit of ’am with it? Won’t that little man of yours, Mrs. Punt—won’t ’e ’ave a bit of ’am?”

“And now ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. Voules, still standing and dominating the crammed roomful, “now you got your plates filled and something I can warrant you good in your glasses, wot about drinking the ’ealth of the bride?”

“Eat a bit fust,” said Uncle Pentstemon, speaking with his mouth full, amidst murmurs of applause. “Eat a bit fust.”

So they did, and the plates clattered and the glasses chinked.

Mr. Polly stood shoulder to shoulder with Johnson for a moment.

“In for it,” said Mr. Polly cheeringly. “Cheer up, O’ Man, and peck a bit. No reason why you shouldn’t eat, you know.”

The Punt boy stood on Mr. Polly’s boots for a minute, struggling violently against the compunction of Mrs. Punt’s grip.