10.30 in the morning in the branch room with a blazing fire, cheerfulness filled the place. A long table ran the length of the room, at the head of which Morris sat under the window. Our conversation began at once. We appointed no chairman, but Mavor offered our guest a few words of welcome on behalf of the meeting, and invited him to speak. Whereupon Morris rose and gave a short address on the principles of the Socialist League, and on its doings in London, particularly with reference to the Free Speech troubles which were then exciting political interest. This done, Morris invited those present to ply him with questions as freely as they wished, either on the matter of his address or on any aspect of Socialism or the movement. 'I shall,' he said, 'most gladly answer any question put to me, if I can; if I cannot, I hope some other of our comrades will try his hand at it. But I also want you, on your part, to tell me something about the movement in Scotland: what your special difficulties are in getting people to accept Socialism; and what your ideas are about how to push the movement ahead.'
There was no lack of questions. At first the topics bore closely on Socialism—the policy of the League, and the more puzzling objections to Socialism which Socialists had to encounter in those days—but soon the scope of enquiry broadened out into the whole field of industry, politics, history, art, and literature. Whatever the nature of the question, Morris replied with unfailing willingness, even when, as in some instances, the question was of a directly personal nature, such as 'Why don't you carry out your Socialist principles in connection with your own business?' 'Why does the firm of Morris & Co. object to advertise its manufactures?' 'Do you dress unconventionally as you do in a blue-serge suit and discard white linen on principle as a Socialist or as a craftsman, or simply as a matter of personal taste?'—these latter questions coming from the visitors.
For fully two hours Morris submitted himself to this
