“There’s something in that,” admitted the other, cheerfully. “But, bless my soul, there are plenty worse off. A man can grub along very well on it so long as he is not ambitious.” “And why shouldn’t a man be ambitious?” demanded Erb. “Some people raise themselves up from small beginnings”—the Chief took up his paper cutter—“and all honour to them for it.” The Chief laid down the paper cutter. “It must be a great satisfaction to look back when they are getting their three or four ’undred a year and think of the time when they were getting only a quid a week. It must make ’em proud of themselves, and their wife and their women folk must be proud of ’em too.” “Married, Barnes?” “No, sir. Live with my sister.” “Engaged perhaps?” “Not on twenty-three and six.” Difficult to use the well-rehearsed arguments and the violent phrases to a courteous man, who showed so much personal interest. If he would but raise his voice or show defiant want of sympathy. “But some of us _are_ married, sir,” Erb went on, “and some of us have children, and I tell you straight, when the rent is paid, and when the children’s clothes are bought and just the necessaries of life are purchased, there’s precious little left over. You can’t realise perhaps, sir, what it means to look at every penny, and look at it hard, before it’s paid away.” “Pick up a bit, don’t you, you carmen?” “An occasional twopence,” cried Erb, “and think what a degrading thing it is for some of us to accept voluntary contributions from those placed in a more fortunate position in life?” “Never knew a railway man object to it before,” mused the Chief. “You’re thinking of the old school, sir. Men are beginning to recognise that capital can’t do without them, and capital must therefore fork out accordingly. This memorial which you hold at the present time in your ’and, sir, contains a moderate appeal. If that moderate appeal is refused, I won’t be answerable for the consequences.” “And yet, I take it, you know more about the consequences than anyone else?” “Be that as it may, sir,” said Erb, flattered, “we needn’t go into hypo—hypo—” “Hypothetical?” “Thank you, sir. We needn’t go into that part of the question at present. But it’s only fair to warn you that when I go back to the men and tell them that their very reasonable applications have been one and all refused, and refused, if I may say so, with ignominy, then there’ll be such an outbreak. Mind you, sir, I’m not blaming you; I only talk to you in this way, because ’ere’s me representing labour on this side of the table, and there’s you on the other side of the table representing capital.” “Labour,” remarked the Chief, trying to make a tent of three pen holders, “is to be congratulated.” “Therefore, not wishing to take up your time any longer, I should like to conclude by remarking in the language of one of our poets of old, who remarks—”