There came a moment when, dropping his quasi-official and high political tone, he said suddenly with another voice and emphasis: "Well now, my men, I'll be bound you're thinking, 'That's all pretty enough!--we haven't got anything against it--we dare say it's all right; but we don't care a brass ha'porth about any of it! If that's all you'd got to say to us, you might have let us bide at home.

We don't have none too much time to rest our bones a bit by the fire, and talk to the missus and the kids.

Why didn't you let us alone, instead of bringing us out in the cold ?' "Well, but it _isn't_ all I've got to say--and you know it--because I've spoken to you before.

What I've been talking about is all true, and all important, and you'll see it some day when you're fit.

But what can men in your position know about it, or care about it?
What do any of you want, but _bread_--" -- He thundered on the desk-- "-- a bit of decent _comfort_--a bit of _freedom_--freedom from tyrants who call themselves your betters!--a bit of rest in your old age, a home that's something better than a dog-hole, a wage that's something better than starvation, an honest share in the wealth you are making every day and every hour for other people to gorge and plunder!" He stopped a moment to see how _that_ took.