The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists [100]
the board rather wildly, without troubling to take aim. One struck the partition to the right of the board: one to the left: one underneath: one went over the counter, one on the floor, the other - the last - hit the board, and amid a shout of applause, caught on the centre hook No. 13, the highest number it was possible to scare with a single throw.
`I shall be all right now that I've got the range,' observed the Semi- drunk as he made way for his opponent.
`You'll see something now,' whispered Philpot to Easton. 'This bloke is a dandy!'
The Besotted Wretch took up his position and with an affectation of carelessness began throwing the rings. It was really a remarkable exhibition, for notwithstanding the fact that his hand trembled like the proverbial aspen leaf, he succeeded in striking the board almost in the centre every time; but somehow or other most of them failed to catch on the hooks and fell into the net. When he finished his innings, he had only scored 4, two of the rings having caught on the No. 2 hook.
`'Ard lines,' remarked Bundy as he finished his beer and put the glass down on the counter.
`Drink up and 'ave another,' said Easton as he drained his own glass.
`I don't mind if I do,' replied Crass, pouring what remained of the pint down his throat.
Philpot's glass had been empty for some time.
`Same again,' said Easton, addressing the Old Dear and putting six pennies on the counter.
By this time the Semi-drunk had again opened fire on the board, but he seemed to have lost the range, for none of the rings scored.
They flew all over the place, and he finished his innings without increasing his total.
The Besotted Wretch now sailed in and speedily piled up 37. Then the Semi-drunk had another go, and succeeded in getting 8. His case appeared hopeless, but his opponent in his next innings seemed to go all to pieces. Twice he missed the board altogether, and when he did hit it he failed to score, until the very last throw, when he made 1. Then the Semi-drunk went in again and got 10.
The scores were now:
Besotted Wretch ........................ 42 Semi-drunk ............................. 31
So far it was impossible to foresee the end. It was anybody's game. Crass became so excited that he absentmindedly opened his mouth and shot his second pint down into his stomach with a single gulp, and Bundy also drained his glass and called upon Philpot and Easton to drink up and have another, which they accordingly did.
While the Semi-drunk was having his next innings, the Besotted Wretch placed a penny on the counter and called for a half a pint, which he drank in the hope of steadying his nerves for a great effort. His opponent meanwhile threw the rings at the board and missed it every time, but all the same he scored, for one ring, after striking the partition about a foot above the board, fell down and caught on the hook.
The other man now began his innings, playing very carefully, and nearly every ring scored. As he played, the others uttered exclamations of admiration and called out the result of every throw.
`One!'
`One again!'
`Miss! No! Got 'im! Two!'
`Miss!'
`Miss!'
`Four!'
The Semi-drunk accepted his defeat with a good grace, and after explaining that he was a bit out of practice, placed a shilling on the counter and invited the company to give their orders. Everyone asked for `the same again,' but the landlord served Easton, Bundy and the Besotted Wretch with pints instead of half-pints as before, so there was no change out of the shilling.
`You know, there's a great deal in not bein' used to the board,' said the Semi-drunk.
`There's no disgrace in bein' beat by a man like 'im, mate,' said Philpot. `'E's a champion!'
`Yes, there's no mistake about it. 'E throws a splendid ring!' said Bundy.
This was the general verdict. The Semi-drunk, though beaten, was not disgraced: and he was so affected by the good feeling manifested by the company that he presently produced a sixpence and insisted on paying for another
`I shall be all right now that I've got the range,' observed the Semi- drunk as he made way for his opponent.
`You'll see something now,' whispered Philpot to Easton. 'This bloke is a dandy!'
The Besotted Wretch took up his position and with an affectation of carelessness began throwing the rings. It was really a remarkable exhibition, for notwithstanding the fact that his hand trembled like the proverbial aspen leaf, he succeeded in striking the board almost in the centre every time; but somehow or other most of them failed to catch on the hooks and fell into the net. When he finished his innings, he had only scored 4, two of the rings having caught on the No. 2 hook.
`'Ard lines,' remarked Bundy as he finished his beer and put the glass down on the counter.
`Drink up and 'ave another,' said Easton as he drained his own glass.
`I don't mind if I do,' replied Crass, pouring what remained of the pint down his throat.
Philpot's glass had been empty for some time.
`Same again,' said Easton, addressing the Old Dear and putting six pennies on the counter.
By this time the Semi-drunk had again opened fire on the board, but he seemed to have lost the range, for none of the rings scored.
They flew all over the place, and he finished his innings without increasing his total.
The Besotted Wretch now sailed in and speedily piled up 37. Then the Semi-drunk had another go, and succeeded in getting 8. His case appeared hopeless, but his opponent in his next innings seemed to go all to pieces. Twice he missed the board altogether, and when he did hit it he failed to score, until the very last throw, when he made 1. Then the Semi-drunk went in again and got 10.
The scores were now:
Besotted Wretch ........................ 42 Semi-drunk ............................. 31
So far it was impossible to foresee the end. It was anybody's game. Crass became so excited that he absentmindedly opened his mouth and shot his second pint down into his stomach with a single gulp, and Bundy also drained his glass and called upon Philpot and Easton to drink up and have another, which they accordingly did.
While the Semi-drunk was having his next innings, the Besotted Wretch placed a penny on the counter and called for a half a pint, which he drank in the hope of steadying his nerves for a great effort. His opponent meanwhile threw the rings at the board and missed it every time, but all the same he scored, for one ring, after striking the partition about a foot above the board, fell down and caught on the hook.
The other man now began his innings, playing very carefully, and nearly every ring scored. As he played, the others uttered exclamations of admiration and called out the result of every throw.
`One!'
`One again!'
`Miss! No! Got 'im! Two!'
`Miss!'
`Miss!'
`Four!'
The Semi-drunk accepted his defeat with a good grace, and after explaining that he was a bit out of practice, placed a shilling on the counter and invited the company to give their orders. Everyone asked for `the same again,' but the landlord served Easton, Bundy and the Besotted Wretch with pints instead of half-pints as before, so there was no change out of the shilling.
`You know, there's a great deal in not bein' used to the board,' said the Semi-drunk.
`There's no disgrace in bein' beat by a man like 'im, mate,' said Philpot. `'E's a champion!'
`Yes, there's no mistake about it. 'E throws a splendid ring!' said Bundy.
This was the general verdict. The Semi-drunk, though beaten, was not disgraced: and he was so affected by the good feeling manifested by the company that he presently produced a sixpence and insisted on paying for another