'Look here, mates,' cried Robert Truefit, commanding and compelling silence by his earnest voice and action, 'we've been called together to-night to discuss certain matters affecting the working man. How _can_ we discuss these matters, and arrive at a proper understanding--and from that point to a proper solution--of the difficulties which surround us, unless we give fair play to those who wish to speak? ('Hear, hear, hear! Well said, mate; go on.') 'I _am_ a working man. My name's Robert Truefit, and I'm a working mason in Mr. Turner's yard. Some of you know me, perhaps; I think I see a face or two that I've seen before.' ('You do. Bob, you do. Go it, old fellow! Fair play! fair play!' And a distinct voice from a gray-haired man in a corner of the room, saying, 'There ain't a man in London that's got the real interest of the working man more at heart than Robert Truefit. And he's got a wife and six children as 'd be a credit to the best man as ever trod shoe-leather.' This statement elicited cheers for Robert Truefit, and 'Another for the old woman!' and 'Another for the kids!' which were given heartily. Then a laughable episode occurred by Robert Truefit saying, in correction, 'No, mate; I've only five young ones;' and a voice replying, 'Never mind, old man; you can soon make it up half a dozen!' A great many who had listened listlessly to Mark Mallard's platitudes now shifted on their seats, as if the meeting was beginning to be interesting.) 'This man here,' continued Robert Truefit, 'who wants to ask Mr. Mark Mallard a question or two, is a friend of mine. He's a rum 'un to look at, but he's sound at bottom.' (Cries of 'Let's see him! Let's have a look at him!') 'Wait a bit. _I_ don't know what he's going to say any more than you do; but he has told me that he knows what he's about, and I believe him, as I'd believe anything else he says.' ('Hurrah for the rum 'un to look at!') 'And now to those who have made up their minds beforehand not to hear what he has got to say, all I've got to do with them is to direct their attention to the name of this hall, written up over the chairman's head. Look at it. "The Temple of Liberty!" A big name, mates, for such a little room as this, but it will do if it prove to be what it professes to be. Great things have been accomplished in little places before to-night; even now, I've no doubt, busy hands and busy minds are at work in common garrets and kitchens, and the world will be the better for their labours by and by, I hope. Let those who wrote "The Temple of Liberty" at the head of this hall--Mr. Mark Mallard, I presume, is chiefly responsible for it--take it down if we are not to have a fair hearing.' ('Bravo, Bob! You're a sound man, you are!') 'I hope so. I cry "Shame" on those who would deny us a hearing! Why, if there were masters and gentlemen among us who wanted to be heard, I hope we are manly enough to listen to them. _Beg_ for fair play, indeed! Why, it's an Englishman's boast