But I tell you it is no laughing matter to feel that your _heart_ and _conscience_ have gone over to the enemy.

You want to feel with your class, and you can't.

Think of what used to happen in the old days.

My grandmother, who was as good and kind a woman as ever lived, was driving home through our village one evening, and a man passed her, a labourer who was a little drunk, and who did not take off his hat to her.

She stopped, made her men get down and had him put in the stocks there and then--the old stocks were still standing on the village green.