The children adore their father, though Rose--a girl of about twelve--told me they could have a pony if their father did not give so much to the poor. When I suggested that this was a good way to use money, she agreed, but added: "It seems a pity there is not enough for both." In which opinion, no doubt, many will agree. At 2.30 a large van drove up to the door, and into it we all piled, except the very little ones, to go to the Sunday-school treat. We stopped at many a corner to pick up the teachers--all of whom were workers in the mills--and drove to a grove some miles away, where the feast was spread. I sat next a man of about fifty years of age, who, when he learned that I was an American, "let himself go." He had friends who had migrated to the "States," and admitted that the wages were much larger than in England, but added that, as the expense of living was so much greater, there was not much in it. I did not remind him that the greater expense meant also better living conditions, for I wanted to hear him talk. He complained that our people worked longer hours than they did, and were so tired at the end of the day that they could not enjoy the rest when it came. He wanted to know if the tariff helped our trade. I laughed and told him there was great difference of opinion on that subject, and that I did not pretend to be an authority, but was inclined to think that the willingness of the workers to use new machinery had more to do with our prosperity than anything the government did. "Ay," said he, "that is what the masters tell us, but we do not heed them. We know that this new machinery can be speeded up till a man's heart is broke." It was not the man's opinion that interested me so much as his willingness to talk; for I had heard frequent complaints that the working men would talk freely only with their mates. But I got a new light on that, for, when we had risen and sung "God Save the King," my neighbor turned to me and said: "You will excuse me if I have talked too free, but this is the first time in my life that I ever talked with a gentleman." I could have wept. "But," I said, "you must often have talked to the vicar?" "Ay," he replied, "but he is a _man_." And with this cryptic saying I had to be content!