“Yes,” admitted Tom, rather blusteringly. “I daresay it was; I suppose you are a better judge of prayers than I am.”
“I’m a purty good judge on ’em,” modestly. “I’d orter be, bein’ a class-leader ‘n’ uster kinder critykisin’. I don’t never do it much in public myself, but I’ve allus critikised them as did. Thet sounded more professionaller then they air mostly—unless comin’ frum them, as has bin raised to it.”
“Did it?” said Tom.
“Yes, it was more professionaller.”
Then he turned his hat again, setting it more carefully on his knee. He also fixed his eyes on Tom with a harmless smile.
“They wus North’ners.”
Tom started, but managed to recover himself.
“You might have mentioned that before,” he remarked, with sarcasm.
“I did,” said Mr. Stamps, “along at the start, Tom; but ye wouldn’t none on ye believe me.”
Tom remembered that this was true, it having been Mr. Stamps who suggested the Northern theory which had been so unitedly scouted by his hearers at the time of its propounding.