I have met some of them, you know--Mr.Cross of Northumberland, Mr.Evans of South Wales--" "Evans is one of the worst," Fenn interrupted, with some excitement.
"There's a man who has only worn a collar for the last few years of his life, who evaded the board-school because he was a pitman's lad, who doesn't even know the names of the countries of Europe, but who still believes that he is a possible candidate.

And Cross, too! Well, he washes when he comes to London, but he sleeps in his clothes and they look like it." "He is very eloquent," Catherine observed.
"Eloquent!" Fenn exclaimed scornfully.

"He may be, but who can understand him?
He speaks in broad Northumbrian.

What is needed in the leader whom they are to elect this week, Miss Abbeway, is a man of some culture and some appearance.

Remember that to him is to be confided the greatest task ever given to man.