The Angel left the window reluctantly.
"Our society," explains the Vicar on the stair-case, "is a complicated organisation."
"Yes?"
"And it is so arranged that some do one thing and some another."
"And that lean, bent old man trudges after that heavy blade of iron pulled by a couple of horses while we go down to eat?"
"Yes. You will find it is perfectly just. Ah! mushrooms and poached eggs! It's the Social System. Pray be seated. Possibly it strikes you as unfair."
"I'm puzzled," said the Angel.
"The drink I'm sending you is called coffee," said the Vicar. "I daresay you are. When I was a young man I was puzzled in the same way. But afterwards comes a Broader View of Things. (These black things are called mushrooms; they look beautiful.) Other Considerations. Do you know, instead of explaining this matter now (this is yours), I think I will lend you a little book to read (Chum, chum, chum), these mushrooms are well up to their appearance), which sets the whole thing out very clearly."
