'He's made his bed, and he must lay on it,' says Jim Naldret; 'and you know, mother, even if he could wipe that part of his life away, he's not fit company for honest men and women.' Jim Naldret feels inclined to say a great deal more on another subject about Saul Fielding, but as the subject which he would have ventilated is a delicate one, and refers to a woman who is not Saul Fielding's wife, he refrains, because Bessie is present. 'Let Saul Fielding drop, mother.' Mrs. Naldret deems it wise to say no more about Saul, and allows a minute or so to elapse before she speaks again. 'Anything in the paper, Jim, about that working-man that put up for Parliament?' 'He didn't get in.' Mrs. Naldret expresses her satisfaction at this result by saying that 'it's a good job for his family, if he's got one.' 'Why shouldn't a working-man be in Parliament, mother?' asks Jim Naldret. [Illustration] 'Because he can't be two things at once. If he fuddles away all his time at Parliament, he can't have time to work; and if he don't work for his living, he's not a workingman.' 'He'd work with his tongue, mother.' 'He'd better work with his hands,' says Mrs. Naldret emphatically, 'and leave the tongue work to his wife. She'd do it better, I'll be bound.' 'I've no doubt she would,' says Jim Naldret, with a chuckle. 'But that working-man in Parliament question is a problem.' 'Well, don't you bother your head about it--that's other people's business. My old mother used to say that every hen's got enough to do to look after its own chicks, and it clacks enough over that, goodness knows.' 'But I'm not a hen, mother,' remonstrates Jim; 'I'm a cock, and I like to have a crow now and then.' 'Well,' exclaims Mrs. Naldret, stitching viciously, 'crow on your own dunghill. Don't you go encroaching on other people's premises.' IF I DID NOT LOVE HER, I WOULD NOT GO AWAY.