they like him.
Oh, Job knows how to do it!"

Endymion listened with interest, soon with delight, soon with a feeling
of exciting and not unpleasing perplexity, to the orator; for he was an
orator, though then unrecognised, and known only in his district. He was
a pale and slender man, with a fine brow and an eye that occasionally
flashed with the fire of a creative mind. His voice certainly was not
like Hollaballoo's. It was rather thin, but singularly clear. There was
nothing clearer except his meaning. Endymion never heard a case stated
with such pellucid art; facts marshalled with such vivid simplicity,
and inferences so natural and spontaneous and irresistible, that they
seemed, as it were, borrowed from his audience, though none of that
audience had arrived at them before. The meeting was hushed, was rapt in
intellectual delight, for they did not give the speaker the enthusiasm
of their sympathy. That was not shared, perhaps, by the moiety of those
who listened to him. When his case was fairly before them, the speaker
dealt with his opponents--some in the press, some in parliament--with
much power of sarcasm, but this power was evidently rather repressed
than allowed to run riot. What impressed Endymion as the chief quality
of this remarkable speaker was his persuasiveness, and he had the air
of being too prudent to offend even an opponent unnecessarily. His
language, though natural and easy, was choice and refined. He was
evidently a man who had read, and not a little; and there was no taint
of vulgarity, scarcely a provincialism, in his pronunciation.

He spoke for rather more than an hour; and frequently during this time,
Endymion, notwithstanding his keen interest in what was taking place,
was troubled, it might be disturbed, by pictures and memories of
the past that he endeavoured in vain to drive away. When the orator
concluded, amid cheering much louder than that which had first greeted
him, Endymion, in a rather agitated voice, whispered to his neighbour,
"Tell me--is his name Thornberry?"

"That is your time of day," said the operative. "Job Thornberry is his
name, and I am on his works."

"And yet you do not agree with him?"

"Well; I go as far as he goes, but he does not go so far as I go; that's
it."

"I do not see how a man can go much farther," said Endymion. "Where are
his works? I knew your master when he was in the south of England, and I
should like to call on him."

"My employer," said t