"Oh, that don't matter, ma'am," said Dick, coming to the help of his mate. "Jim an' me's a-going' to push you—at least one of us is, but we hasn't fought it out yet which is a-going to do it." These men were real heroes—truer than any who have ever trod a battlefield: they knew right well the pushing of that machine meant months of ill-natured chaff and persecution.
As they neared the end of their journey, one of the men, who had been on the look-out for them, quickly took the word to the camp: "Gentleman Dick and Red Ribbon and their swells are coming along. Come on, I say, and let's have a fine old spree!"
Quite a little crowd gathered close by the shed to witness the arrival. Jim and Dick were greeted with some very rude gibes, but the other members of the party escaped any personal remarks.
With the same quickness and tact Phebe had shown in the management of her business, she set about this new work. Taking their seats in front of the shed, Phebe and Bessie began to sing, Reynolds and Jones standing close by, while Dick and Jim stood on each side as a kind of defence. The concertina was a great help, and when Bessie sang alone it formed a nice soft accompaniment. The men were quite taken off their guard, and thoroughly enjoyed it. "Give us some more, missis," they called out more than once.
A little later on Phebe said: "If you don't mind, friends, sitting down on the grass, I'll tell you a story while my friend has a rest," and a good number of them did so. They hadn't the slightest idea, some of them, that they were attending "a meeting." First, with a story from her own girlhood, and then one told in her own words, from the life of Jesus, she got their closest attention. When one at the close called out, "How much are you paid for this, missis?" more than one tuft of grass was thrown at him, with several unparliamentary bits of advice as to what he was to do with his mouth.
After more singing they asked her to talk to them again, and she did so, this time pressing home one or two truths, and then she prayed. Many of the men had never heard a prayer since they prayed at their mother's knee. Not many eyes were closed, but a wonderful silence fell upon that group of rough fellows as they listened to that "little woman" talking to God.
"Will you come again, missis?" asked one.
"Yes, I will, if you will let me. And please tell your wives, those of you who have them living here—will you?—how much I should like to see them, too. If it rains we should have to go into the shed—would you mind that?"
"No, why should we?" they answered. "Not if the singing girl comes too."
The four visitors went into the shed before starting home, just to see what it was like, and there a surprise met them. On a stool stood four cups and saucers, a jug of milk, a packet of sugar, and some biscuits. Presently Dick came in, carrying a teapot. This was all his own particular bit of work. He had made a fire at the back of the shed and boiled his kettle there, giving a boy a penny to stand guard over it.