imself beside a rough-looking labourer known
as "Ruddy" Bill, on account of the extreme picturesqueness and
sustained directness of his language.

On Bindle's arrival Bill had been delivering himself of an opinion,
accompanied by a string of explicatory oaths and obscenities that
obviously embarrassed his hearers, rough though they were. Waiting his
opportunity, Bindle presently remarked quite casually:

"Words such as 'damn' and ''ell,' like beer and tobacco, was sent to
sort of 'elp us along, 'specially them wot is married. Where'd I be
wi' Mrs. B. if I 'adn't 'ell an' a few other things to fall back on?
No!" he continued after a moment's pause, "I don't 'old wi' swearin'."
He turned and looked at Ruddy Bill as if seeking confirmation of his
view.

"'Oo the blinkin' 'ell arst wot you 'old wiv?" demanded Bill
truculently, and with much adornment of language.

Bindle proceeded deliberately to light his pipe as if he had not heard
the question; then, when it was drawing to his entire satisfaction, he
raised his eyes and gazed at Bill over the lighted match.

"No one, ole sport. Yer always gets the good things for nothink, like
twins an' lodgers."

Bill resented the laugh that greeted Bindle's reply, and proceeded to
pour forth his views on those given to "shovin' in their decorated
snouts."

When he had exhausted his eloquence Bindle remarked good-humouredly.

"It 'ud take a bucketful of carbolic an' a damn big brush to clean the
dirty words out o' your mouth, Sweet William."

Bill growled out further obscenities.

"I ain't religious," continued Bindle, "I don't suppose none of us is.
I don't seem to see 'Uggles wi' wings, and Ginger ain't exactly fitted
for sittin' on a cloud a-pullin' 'arp strings; but if yer want to come
'ere an' listen to my talk and Wilkes's cough, Sweet William, you got
to clean up that talk o' yours a bit. Ain't that so, mates?"

The rest of the company made it abundantly clear that Bindle had
expressed its sentiments, and Ruddy Bill subsided into _sotto voce_
blasphemies.

During these Friday nights at the Scarlet Horse, many subjects came up
for discussion; marriage, politics, religion were dealt with in turn,
but it was impossible to keep the talk away from the War, to which time
after time it returned with the same persistency that the needle of the
compass flutters back to the north.

"I'd sooner be like 'Earty than a German," Bindle once remarked with
decision. "If the