“Oi! Yer askin' what I mean by a friend, Hicksy? Ye are! An' yer right, an' I'll show ye the point. I'll speak to ye of John Murphy, now, what I've had many a drink on him, an' a helpin' hand. A friend is a friend in need. That's him. Now, thin, Murphy's a friend of Wood's, for he says so. Now, thin, I'll show you Dick Hennion. For if I wants a job, I says the word to Murphy, an' he speaks the word maybe to Hennion an' he gets me a job, for he done it onct, an' I know, don't I? if so be it happen I wants a job. An' Hennion's a friend of Wood's, too, as anywan knows. Now! A friend of me, I says, is a man that acts friendly to me. That's him. So would ye say, Hicksy, if ye was a wise man an' a man of sense, instead of chasin' afther a chin-waggin' preacher, like a schnare-drum afther a thrombone. Haw, haw, haw! a brass throm-bone! But Wood's a friend of the poor, an' I've proved it. For why? For I say it's the rich that he bleeds, but the poor man he's friendly to. Now, thin! What does Aidee do but say the bad word of Wood. In consequence, in consequence, I says,”--and Coglan smote his knee,--“he ain't no friend of the poor.” Hicks' black eyes glittered and focussed themselves, a concentrated stare at a minutely small spot between Coglan's eyes. His teeth clicked. Coglan's laugh died away. He turned his eyes aside and rubbed his red face uneasily. “Coglan,” said Hicks, “I warned you before. You shake your mouth at the Preacher again and I'll stick a knife into your dirty throat. You hear that!” Coglan's redness showed purple spots. “Think I'm afraid of ye!” “Yep, I think you are.” “I'll break your little chick bones!” “Yep. You're afraid, and you better stay so.” “Hicksy!” broke in Shays with quavering voice. “Tom! we're all friends, ain't we? Now, then, Tom, Hicksy makes a point you leave out the Preacher, don't he? He'll argue peaceful. Jus' leave out the Preacher. Won't you, Hicksy? Hey? You'll argue peaceful.” “I said I would.” “Leave out the Preacher,” said Shays. “All friens'. Hey?” Coglan wiped his perspiring face. “I'm a sensible man,” he said. “When Jimmy Shays asks a favour, I say, sure! I'm a sensible man.” He looked resentfully and uneasily at Hicks, but seemed relieved to withdraw from his aggressive position without losing his dominance. “Oi! I told ye what I meant by a friend. I said Marve Wood was a friend of the poor, an' I proved it. I'll be fair an' square. I'll ask ye, what's _your_ meanin'?” Hicks dropped his eyes, and fell to his jabbing needlework.