But the speech, such as it was, sufficed amply for the immediate wants of the denizens of the Cheshire Cheese. There were men there who for the half-hour believed that Ontario Moggs had been born to settle all the difficulties between labourers and their employers, and that he would do so in such a way that the labourers, at least, should have all that they wanted. It would be, perhaps, too much to say that any man thought this would come in his own day,--that he so believed as to put a personal trust in his own belief; but they did think for a while that the good time was coming, and that Ontario Moggs would make it come. "We'll have 'im in parl'ament any ways," said a sturdy, short, dirty-looking artizan, who shook his head as he spoke to show that, on that matter, his mind was quite made up. "I dunno no good as is to cum of sending sich as him to parl'ament," said another. "Parl'ament ain't the place. When it comes to the p'int they won't 'ave 'em. There was Odgers, and Mr. Beale. I don't b'lieve in parl'ament no more." "Kennington Oval's about the place," said a third. "Or Primrose 'ill," said a fourth. "Hyde Park!" screamed the little wizen man with the gin and water. "That's the ticket;--and down with them gold railings. We'll let' em see!" Nevertheless they all went away home in the quietest way in the world, and,--as there was no strike in hand,--got to their work punctually on the next morning. Of all those who had been loudest at the Cheshire Cheese there was not one who was not faithful, and, in a certain way, loyal to his employer. As soon as his speech was over and he was able to extricate himself from the crowd, Ontario Moggs escaped from the public-house and strutted off through certain narrow, dark streets in the neighbourhood, leaning on the arm of a faithful friend. "Mr. Moggs, you did pitch it rayther strong, to-night," said the faithful friend. "Pitch it rather strong;--yes. What good do you think can ever come from pitching any thing weak? Pitch it as strong as you will, find it don't amount to much." "But about rebellion, now, Mr. Moggs? Rebellion ain't a good thing, surely, Mr. Moggs." "Isn't it? What was Washington, what was Cromwell, what was Rienzi, what was,--was,--; but never mind," said Ontario, who could not at the moment think of the name of his favourite Pole. "And you think as the men should be rebels again' the masters?" "That depends on who the masters are, Waddle." "What good 'd cum of it if I rebelled again' Mr. Neefit, and told him up to his face as I wouldn't make up the books? He'd only sack me. I find thirty-five bob a week, with two kids and their mother to keep on it, tight enough, Mr. Moggs. If I 'ad the fixing on it, I should say forty bob wasn't over the mark;--I should indeed. But I don't see as I should get it." "Yes you would;--if you earned it, and stuck to your purpose. But you're a single stick, and it requires a faggot to do this work."