rnoon to speak fur the
women--well--then the usual thing began.'

An appreciative roar rose from the crowd.

'Yes,' he grinned, 'if you want peace and quiet at a public meetin',
better not go mentionin' the lydies these times!'

He stopped, and the crowd filled in the hiatus with laughter.

'There wus a man at 'Ammersmith, too, talkin' about Woman's sphere bein'
'Ome. 'Ome do you call it? _'Ome!_' and at the word his _bonhomie_
suffered a singular eclipse. ''Ome!' he bellowed, as if some one had
struck him in a vital spot, and the word was merely a roar of pain.
'_'Ome!_ You've got a kennel w'ere you can munch your tommy. You got a
corner w'ere you can curl up fur a few hours till you go out to work
again. But 'omes! No, my men, there's too many of you ain't able to
_give_ the women 'omes fit to live in; too many of you in that fix fur
you to go on jawin' at those o' the women 'oo want to myke the 'omes a
little more deservin' o' the name.'

'If the vote ain't done us any good,' a man bawled up at him, ''ow'll it
do the women any good?'

'Look 'ere! See 'ere!' he rolled his shapeless body up and down the
stone platform, taking in great draughts of cheer from some invisible
fountain. 'Any men here belongin' to the Labour Party?' he inquired.

To an accompaniment of shouts and applause he went on, smiling and
rubbing his hands in a state of bubbling Brotherliness.

'Well, I don't need tell those men the vote 'as done us _some_ good.
They _know_ it. And it'll do us a lot more good w'en you know 'ow to use
the power you got in your 'and.'

'Power!' grumbled an old fellow. 'It's those fellows at the bottom of
the street'--he hitched his head toward St. Stephen's--'it's them that's
got the power.'

The speaker pounced on him. 'It's you and men like you that give it to
them. Wot did you do last election? You carried the Liberals into
Parliament Street on your own shoulders. You believed all their fine
words. You never asked yerselves, "Wot's a Liberal, anyway?"'

In the chorus of cheers and booing some one sang out, 'He's a jolly good
fellow!'

'No 'e ain't,' said the Labour man, with another wheel about and a
pounce. 'No 'e ain't, or, if 'e's jolly, it's only because 'e thinks
you're such a cod-fish you'll go swellin' 'is majority again.'

Stonor joined in that laugh. He rather liked the man.

'Yes, it's enough to make any Liberal "jolly" to see a sheep like you
lookin' on, proud and 'appy, while you see Libe