He rushed off again, puffing and blowing his ’ardest, in such a hurry that he forgot to give George the money for the tickets.  However, George borrowed a pencil of Mrs. Mitchell in the train, and put down on paper ’ow much they cost, and Mrs. Mitchell said if George didn’t like to remind ’im she would.

They left young Ted and Charlie to stay near the station when they got to the Palace, Uncle Joe ’aving forgotten to say where he’d meet ’em, but train arter train came in without ’im, and at last the two boys gave it up.

“We’re sure to run across ’im sooner or later,” ses Gerty.  “Let’s ’ave something to eat; I’m so hungry.”

George said something about buns and milk, but Gerty took ’im up sharp.  “Buns and milk?” she ses.  “Why, uncle would never forgive us if we spoilt his treat like that.”

She walked into a refreshment place and they ’ad cold meat and bread and pickles and beer and tarts and cheese, till even young Ted said he’d ’ad enough, but still they couldn’t see any signs of Uncle Joe.  They went on to the roundabouts to look for ‘im, and then into all sorts o’ shows at sixpence a head, but still there was no signs of ’im, and George had ’ad to start on a fresh bit o’ paper to put down wot he’d spent.

“I suppose he must ha’ been detained on important business,” ses Gerty, at last.

“Unless it’s one of ’is jokes,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, shaking her ’ead.  “You know wot your uncle is, Gerty.”

“There now, I never thought o’ that,” ses Gerty, with a start; “p’r’aps it is.”

“Joke?” ses George, choking and staring from one to the other.

“I was wondering where he’d get the money from,” ses Mrs. Mitchell to Gerty.  “I see it all now; I never see such a man for a bit o’ fun in all my born days.  And the solemn way he went on last night, too.  Why, he must ha’ been laughing in ’is sleeve all the time.  It’s as good as a play.”

“Look here!” ses George, ’ardly able to speak; “do you mean to tell me he never meant to come?”

“I’m afraid not,” ses Mrs. Mitchell, “knowing wot he is.  But don’t you worry; I’ll give him a bit o’ my mind when I see ’im.”

George Crofts felt as though he’d burst, and then ’e got his breath, and the things ’e said about Uncle Joe was so awful that Mrs. Mitchell told the boys to go away.

“How dare you talk of my uncle like that?” ses Gerty, firing up.

“You forget yourself, George,” ses Mrs. Mitchell.  “You’ll like ’im when you get to know ’im better.”

“Don’t you call me George,” ses George Crofts, turning on ’er.  “I’ve been done, that’s wot I’ve been.  I ’ad fourteen pounds when I was paid off, and it’s melting like butter.”

“Well, we’ve enjoyed ourselves,” ses Gerty, “and that’s what money was given us for.  I’m sure those two boys ’ave had a splendid time, thanks to you.  Don’t go and spoil all by a little bit o’ temper.”