|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
`So 'e did to me!' said Easton. `'E come inter the drorin'-room an' 'e ses, "Oh, you're in 'ere are yer, Easton," 'e ses - just like that, quite affable like. So I ses, "Yes, sir." "Well," 'e ses, "get it slobbered over as quick as you can," 'e ses, "'cos we ain't got much for this job: don't spend a lot of time puttying up. Just smear it over an' let it go!"'
`'E certinly seemed very pleased about something,' said Harlow. `I thought prap's there was a undertaking job in: one o' them generally puts 'im in a good humour.'
`I believe that nothing would please 'im so much as to see a epidemic break out,' remarked Philpot. `Small-pox, Hinfluenza, Cholery morbus, or anything like that.'
`Yes: don't you remember 'ow good-tempered 'e was last summer when there was such a lot of Scarlet Fever about?' observed Harlow.