epeating this and the
other of the seven, professes himself still unsatisfied, shakes his head
indulgently, walks from the room.

The debate is opened. Behold a second inevitable man; he is not
well-washed, his shirt-front shows a beer-stain; he is angry before he
begins.

'I don't know whether a man as doesn't 'old with these kind o' theories
'll be allowed a fair 'earin--'

Indignant interruption. Cries of 'Of course he will!'--'Who ever refused
to hear you?'--and the like.

He is that singular phenomenon, that self-contradiction, that expression
insoluble into factors of common-sense--the Conservative working man.
What do they want to be at? he demands. Do they suppose as this kind of
talk 'll make wages higher, or enable the poor man to get his beef and
beer at a lower rate? What's the d--d good of it all? Figures, oh? He
never heered yet as figures made a meal for a man as hadn't got one; nor
yet as they provided shoes and stockings for his young 'uns at 'ome. It
made him mad to listen, that it did! Do they suppose as the rich man 'll
give up the land, if they talk till all's blue? Wasn't it human natur to
get all you can and stick to it?

'Pig's nature!' cries someone from the front benches.

'There!' comes the rejoinder. 'Didn't I say as there was no fair 'earing
for a man as didn't say just what suits you?'

The voice of Daniel Dabbs is loud in good-tempered mockery. Mockery
comes from every side, an angry note here and there, for the most part
tolerant, jovial.

'Let him speak! 'Ear him! Hoy! Hoy!'

The chairman interposes, but by the time that order is restored the
Conservative working man has thrust his hat upon his head and is off to
the nearest public-house, muttering oaths.

Mr. Cullen rises, at the same time rises Mr. Cowes. These two gentlemen
are fated to rise simultaneously. They scowl at each other. Mr. Cullen
begins to speak, and Mr. Cowes, after a circular glance of protest,
resumes his seat. The echoes tell that we are in for oratory with a
vengeance. Mr. Cullen is a short, stout man, very seedily habited, with
a great rough head of hair, an aquiline nose, lungs of vast power. His
vein is King Cambyses'; he tears passion to tatters; he roars leonine;
he is your man to have at the pamper'd jades of Asia! He has got hold
of a new word, and that the verb to 'exploit.' I am exploited, thou art
exploited,--_he_ exploits! Who? Why, such men as that English duke whom
the lecturer gripped and