Jim. It's not what you've done. It's what you're wanting to do. Ste. I'm wanting to provide a recreation ground for Dick to play in. Anything wrong in that? Jim. A lot. There's more important things than playing fields. Ste. Oh, you're thinking of Montgomery's idea for houses. Jim. No, I'm not thinking of anybody's ideas. Thinking of ideas leads to mischief. I'm thinking of my bread and butter that you're taking from me. Ste. I? Jim. You know very well where I work. Ste. You're Mr. Vining's gardener, aren't you? Jim. Yes, and Mr. Vining lives in the Polygon. It's likely I'd vote for breaking up the Polygon, isn't it? Ste. But, my dear friend---- Jim. I tell you I'm not your friend. Ste. Mr. Vining will have to live somewhere. He won't cease to require a gardener. Jim. Ever hear tell as a bird in the hand whacked two in the bush? Ste. (_scornfully_). If you're afraid of losing your employment. Jim (_with conviction_). A working man's always afraid of that. I know what it's like to be out of a job. Ste. (_ingratiatingly, after a slight pause_). Well, now, I tell you what. Jim.. Aye? Ste. We shall want somebody to look after the grass in the recreation ground. Jim. Well? Ste. The Park Committee will want an experienced gardener--like you. Jim. Are you offering me the job? Ste. Yes. Jim. How do you know you'll be on any Park Committee? You might be fired out of the Council next November. Ste. (_with dignity_). I'm an alderman, Pilling. Aldermen stay in, they don't get fired. Jim. You're offering me this. Well and good. And what about all the other folk as find work in the Polygon? House servants and such like. Ste. The residents won't cease to want servants where they move to. Jim. And you can flit servants same as furniture, can't you? And servants haven't votes and I have. So you bribe me and they can go to the devil. Ste. (_backing in alarm_). Mr. Pilling! Jim. Oh, I'm not blind, if I was brought up in the country. They didn't learn me there to vote against my master, either. I take Mr. Vining's money and---- Ste. But man alive, how's he to know which way you vote? The ballot's secret. Jim (_sceptically_). Oh, aye, we've heard that tale before. Ste. (_irritated_). But it is secret. Jim (_unconvinced_). That's what they tell you. And if it is, it's not secret from me. I'd know how I voted. And I couldn't hold out my hand for wages from a man when I'd voted opposite to him. I'm not built that way. Ste. (_disgustedly_). Jim Pilling, I thought you'd more sense. Jim. I've a sense of right and wrong. Ste. Yes, the sense that your employer's always right. Jim. It makes no matter if he's right or wrong. He's still my employer. A man can't vote against the gentleman that gives him bread and butter, and Mr. Vining's a real gentleman, mind you. (_With enthusiastic admiration_). I never saw him raise his hand to do a thing himself yet. Ste. You're a fool, Pilling. Jim. I'm an honest fool, then.