human
Is that satisfactory?
gpt
Couldn't be fairer,
human
Mind, ses Smith, putting them into a tall paper bag that had 'ad sugar in it and shaking them up,
gpt
Number I wins the prize. Who's going to draw fust?
human
Come on, ses Smith, the landlord.
gpt
Some-body must be fust.
human
Go on, George Kettle, ses Bob Pretty.
gpt
You're sure to win. I 'ad a dream you did.
human
Go on yourself,
gpt
I never 'ave no luck, ses Bob;
human
O' course they must, ses Henery,
gpt
All right, I'll go fust if you'll blindfold me,
human
There ain't no need for that, Bob, ses Mr. Smith.
gpt
You can't see in the bag, and even if you could it wouldn't help you.
human
Never mind; you blindfold me, ses Bob;
gpt
Open it and see what number it is, Mr. Smith, ses Bob Pretty.
human
Twenty- three, I expect; I never 'ave no luck.
gpt
He's won it! he ses, in a choky voice.
human
It's Number I. Bob Pretty 'as won the prize.
gpt
He's won it! he ses, in a choky voice.
human
It's Number I.