"Aye! That there will, my lass, and a mighty stir too before we get all we want. But, as our Winny says, the first thing is to get the men to think alike about what they want." "But there won't be a strike?" said poor Mrs. Chaplin with a shiver. She knew by bitter experience what a strike meant, what hunger and cold, what a giving up of treasured household goods, and the desolate homes that it left behind. "We won't have no strike if we can help it. What we must do is to make up our minds to stand shoulder to shoulder, and when the dock companies see that, why, of course, they will hear our complaints, and make some alterations." "But suppose they shouldn't?" said his wife. Chaplin could see the dread in her face, and hastened to allay her fears. "We won't strike till we're compelled," he said. "Our Winny won't forget to tell God all about it; and, look here, mother, if the worst comes to the worst, why, don't you see that God will know we're just doing it for bare life, and he'll take care of us?" "Yes! Yes! Father, that he will," said Winny. "And then we shall be able to get a front room and live happy ever afterwards." Such a prospect as a front room, or better still, two rooms to live in, was worth any struggle, and looking at his Winny as he awkwardly pushed the needle in and out, Chaplin determined to give his name in the next day as one who would join in the demand that was to be made for better terms for the labourers. CHAPTER III. THE NEIGHBOURS. "LOOK here, Maria, we shall have to move out of this place, I can see; I don't mean to put up with the fellows grumbling any longer. Last night one of them threatened to break my windows if I didn't give up my work at the docks, as if it was my fault that the men had to work on contract. They've been at it for a month now." Mrs. Rutter sighed. "I wish you had never been made a foreman," she said in a tone of desperation. "We was ever so much happier when you was just a workman with about half the wages." "What do you mean?" demanded her husband fiercely. "Why, that money don't always bring happiness," replied his wife evasively, looking half afraid of what she had said. "What have you got to complain of?" he said. "Don't you have plenty to eat and drink? Ain't you got the best furnished house in the street? Ain't we better off than anybody in the neighbourhood? I've just bought another house, one where there's some good steady tenants, and where the rents ain't so high but they'll bear raising a bit." "You never was so anxious to make money when you just had—" "There, go into the kitchen and cry there," commanded her husband. "Only don't keep the fire burning in waste."