"I'm to see him again, and promised to co-operate with him, much to his delight."
"It's all rubbish!" commented Dick, tilting back his chair, "this jabber of co-operation and profit-sharing and their 'new systems.' All a device of the capitalist to make men slaves under another name. I see a lot of 'sweatin'' in it, Mr. Elms. Of course he'll own the land and get all the profit in the end. You see!"
"There you're wrong," replied the Sergeant, "as you raving anarchists always are. You know your game would be up if capital and labour joined hands."
"Don't hit him too hard, father," interjected the maiden, who was stitching on, amused. "He has been punished once already."
Dick looked daggers at the girl, whose head was bent over her work, then he continued—
"I don't believe in half-measures. You'll do no good till every blessed thing's burst up and the State takes control, and all's divided fair."
"Every Saturday night?" naïvely suggested the girl; "it'll be necessary I fear."
"Now look here, Dick," said the Sergeant, "don't be a fool; we have the brains. Let us use these fellows. You just fall into line with us. We'll soon get the concern, if it's started, into our own hands and twist things round as we like."
To much sentiment of this character expression was given. At length the girl, who had kept silence for some time, rose from her seat, and with mingled shame and scorn drawing herself to her full height, her dark eyes flashing, said—
"I'm not going to sit here and listen to such unmanly utterances. God knows, I sorrow for those who are hungry and homeless, but they, for the most part, are
