A pretty, simple building, the club-house, with a rustic colonnade outside, under which the members can sit on wet evenings, looking at the patches of ground they cultivate for themselves; within, a well-ventilated room, large and lofty, cheerful pavement of coloured tiles, a bar for serving out the beer, good supply of forms and chairs, and a brave big chimney-corner, where the fire burns cheerfully. Adjoining this room, another: “Built for a reading-room,” said Friar Bacon; “but not much used—yet.” The dreary sage, looking in through the window, perceiving a fixed reading-desk within, and inquiring its use: “I have Service there,” said Friar Bacon. “They never went anywhere to hear prayers, and of course it would be hopeless to help them to be happier and better, if they had no religious feeling at all.” “The whole place is very pretty.” Thus the sage. “I am glad you think so. I built it for the holders of the Allotment-grounds, and gave it them: only requiring them to manage it by a committee of their own appointing, and never to get drunk there. They never have got drunk there.” “Yet they have their beer freely?” “O yes. As much as they choose to buy. The club gets its beer direct from the brewer, by the barrel. So they get it good; at once much cheaper, and much better, than at the public-house. The members take it in turns to be steward, and serve out the beer: if a man should decline to serve when his turn came, he would pay a fine of twopence. The steward lasts, as long as the barrel lasts. When there is a new barrel, there is a new steward.” “What a noble fire is roaring up that chimney!” “Yes, a capital fire. Every member pays a halfpenny a week.” “Every member must be the holder of an Allotment-garden?” “Yes; for which he pays five shillings a year. The Allotments you see about us, occupy some sixteen or eighteen acres, and each garden is as large as experience shows one man to be able to manage. You see how admirably they are tilled, and how much they get off them. They are always working in them in their spare hours; and when a man wants a mug of beer, instead of going off to the village and the public-house, he puts down his spade or his hoe, comes to the club-house and gets it, and goes back to his work. When he has done work, he likes to have his beer at the club, still, and to sit and look at his little crops as they thrive.” “They seem to manage the club very well.” “Perfectly well. Here are their own rules. They made them. I never interfere with them, except to advise them when they ask me.” RULES AND REGULATIONS MADE BY THE COMMITTEE From the 21st September, 1857 _One half-penny per week to be paid to the club by each member_ 1.—Each member to draw the beer in order, according to the number of his allotment; on failing, a forfeit of twopence to be paid to the club.