had not previously spoken. "It ain't our scrap,
an' we been let in for it by a lot o' stutterin' toffs wot us
workin'-men sends to Parliament. It makes me fair sick, an' beer goin'
up like 'ell."

There was a murmur that showed the man had voiced the general opinion
of the room.

"Wot jer got to say to that, Joe?" demanded Ruddy Bill aggressively.

"I got a good deal to say to it, Sweet William," remarked Bindle,
removing his pipe from his mouth and speaking with great deliberation.
"I got quite a lot to say. Supposin' I see a couple of big chaps
a-'ammerin' your missis an' kickin' yer kids about, an' I says, 'It
ain't nothink to do wi' me,' an' takes no notice. Would any of yer
ever want to speak to me again?"

Bindle looked round him enquiringly, but there was no reply.

"Well, that's wot Germany's done to Belgium an' the other place, an'
that's why we chipped in. Look 'ere, mates, if any of yer thinks yer
can live thinkin' only o' yerselves, yer mistaken. We got a fine ole
country and a good king, an' we can tell a archbishop to go to 'ell if
we want to wi'out gettin' pinched for it; an' when yer got all them
things--an' there ain't no other country wot 'as--then it's worth
'avin' a scrap now an' then to keep 'em."

"But we should 'ave 'ad 'em all the same; Germany didn't want to fight
us," protested the whiskered man.

"Ain't you a silly ole 'uggins! an' you wi' all that 'air on yer face
ought to be a man. The Germans 'ud 'ave come for us next, when they'd
beaten the others. Besides, yer don't always fight for beer an' baccy;
sometimes yer does it because somethink's bein' 'urt wot can't 'it
back. Got it, Whiskers?"

The man addressed as Whiskers subsided, finding that opinion had veered
round to Bindle's point of view.

"An' when's it goin' to end?" enquired Huggles in an aggrieved tone.

"It'll end, my lovely 'Uggles, jest as soon as a fight 'tween you an'
me 'ud end--when one of us 'ad 'ad enough."

"That's goin' to be the Germans," almost shouted Ginger.

"Well, up to this evenin' I wasn't sure, Ginger, but now I 'ear you're
a-goin', o' course I'm puttin' me money on the ole lion."

"I don't 'old wi' war," grumbled Ginger. "S' 'elp me if I do."

"Well, mates," Bindle remarked, as he rose to go, the hands of the
clock on the mantelpiece pointing to ten minutes to ten, "I'm due at
the War Office, an' they don't like to be kep' waitin'. Lord! 'ow the
Kayser must 'ate me! So long." And