nces
with the Major.

Absorbed in their talk, they came to an avenue given up to the poorer
class of people; with elevated trains rattling by overhead, and rows of
little shops along it. Montague noticed a dense crowd on one of the
corners, and asked what it meant.

"Some sort of a meeting," said the Major.

They came nearer, and saw a torch, with a man standing near it, above
the heads of the crowd.

"It looks like a political meeting," said Montague, "but it can't be,
now--just after election."

"Probably it's a Socialist," said the Major. "They're at it all the
time."

They crossed the avenue, and then they could see plainly. The man was
lean and hungry-looking, and he had long arms, which he waved with
prodigious violence. He was in a frenzy of excitement, pacing this way
and that, and leaning over the throng packed about him. Because of a
passing train the two could not hear a sound.

"A Socialist!" exclaimed Montague, wonderingly. "What do they want?"

"I'm not sure," said the other. "They want to overthrow the government."

The train passed, and then the man's words came to them: "They force
you to build palaces, and then they put you into tenements! They force
you to spin fine raiment, and then they dress you in rags! They force
you to build jails, and then they lock you up in them! They force you
to make guns, and then they shoot you with them! They own the political
parties, and they name the candidates, and trick you into voting for
them--and they call it the law! They herd you into armies and send you
to shoot your brothers--and they call it order! They take a piece of
coloured rag and call it the flag and teach you to let yourself be
shot--and they call it patriotism! First, last, and all the time, you
do the work and they get the benefit--they, the masters and owners, and
you--fools--fools--fools!"

The man's voice had mounted to a scream, and he flung his hands into
the air and broke into jeering laughter. Then came another train, and
Montague could not hear him; but he could see that he was rushing on in
the torrent of his denunciation.

Montague stood rooted to the spot; he was shocked to the depths of his
being--he could scarcely contain himself as he stood there. He longed
to spring forward to beard the man where he stood, to shout him down,
to rebuke him before the crowd.

The Major must have seen his agitation, for he took his arm and led him
back from the throng, saying: "Come! We c