Of a sudden the drunken soldier was pushed against him, and before he could raise his hands, his hat had flown off on the breeze.
He turned round with angry remonstrance.

The soldier had fallen back on to the seat, and was grinning inanely; the drovers were enjoying the joke beyond measure.
'Theer, lad!' one of them cried.

'Tha's doon it nah! Tha'll a' to buy him a new 'at for his 'eead, soon as we get i'to Hebs'orth.' ''Appen he's got no brass,' suggested the other, guffawing.
It was the case; the soldier had a copper or two at most.

The drovers of course held themselves free of responsibility.

Hood felt in his own pocket; but he was well aware that a shilling and three-halfpence was all he carried with him--save the bank-note in his pocket-book.