"Let him go on," said Gollop gloomily. "There's a bitter truth in what he says. We're not shoulder to shoulder and none can pretend we are. Take Masterman--that man! What did he say only this morning in vestry? 'Gollop,' he said, 'the roots are being starved. If we don't get rain pretty quick there'll be no turnips--no, nor mangolds neither.'" Half a dozen raised their voices in support of this assertion. "That's truth anyway," declared Timothy. "Never knew such a beastly drought at this season. Even rain will not bring the crop up to average weight now. It's beyond nature to do it." "Well, he's going to pray for rain," said Gollop. "Next Sunday we shall ax for 'moderate rain and showers.'" "Well, why not?" asked Nathan. "That's what the man's there for surely." "Why not? Because the glass is up 'pon top of everything, and the wind's in the east steady as a rock. That's why not. You don't want prayer to be turned into a laughing-stock. We don't want our ministers to fly in the face of Providence, do we? To pray for rain at present be equally mad as to pray for snow. 'Tis just courting failure. Then this here man, Jack Head, and other poisonous members, will laugh, like Elijah when he drawed on them false prophets, and say our Jehovah be asleep." "Not me," answered Head. "'Tis your faith be asleep. You've given your side away properly now, my bold hero! So you've got such a poor opinion of your Jehovah that you reckon to ax Him to take the wind out of the east be going too far? But you're right. Your God can't do it. All the same, Masterman's a better Christian than you." "You speak as a rank atheist, Jack," said Timothy Waite. "And what sense there is in you is all spoiled because you're so fierce and sour." "Not me--far from it. We was talking of Jehovah, I believe, and there's no law against free speech now, so I've a right to say my say without being called to order by you or any man. Tom here don't trust his God to bring rain when the glass is set fair; and I say that he be perfectly right--that's all. Gollop ought to have the faith that moves mountains, no doubt; but he hasn't. He can't help feeling terrible shaky when it comes to a challenge. That's the good my side's doing, though he do swear at us. We're making the people common-sensible. Faith have had a long run for its money. Now we're going to give Works a bit of a show. Masterman fawns on Jehovah like a spaniel bitch, and thinks that all this shoe-licking be going to soften the God of the stars. But if there was a God, He'd be made of sterner stuff than man makes Him. We shouldn't get round Him, like a naughty boy round a weak father. In fact, you might so well try to stop a runaway steam-roller by offering it a cabbage-leaf, as to come round a working God by offering Him prayers." "How you can stand this under your roof, Nathan, I'm blessed if I know," grumbled Mr. Gollop. "'Tis very evil speaking, and no good will come to you by it."