“That’ll do; that’ll do,” exclaimed several voices. “We know Joe Banks always does what he says; he’ll do.”
“But that wean’t do,” said Sim. “It aint the oath, you know, Joe Banks, and you must tak’ it.”
“I’ll take no other,” cried Banks, shortly. “Wheer’s Tom Podmore?”
Tom was brought forward, bandaged, while Slee and Barker whispered together; and the majority of the men seemed to look upon the scene as one to be held in great veneration.
“Sweer in Tom Podmore,” cried Slee; and the men with the swords were once more about to perform their theatrical act with the most solemn of faces.
“Stop!” cried Banks, snatching off the bandage. “That’s enew o’ this stuff. I’ll answer for Tom Podmore. Let’s hev deeds, not words.”
“I’ll go on to explain,” said Sim, snatching at the chance for a speech. “I was speaking when you came in, Joe Banks.”
“I think you come into the world speaking,” cried Joe Banks, roughly. “Get down off that cheer, and say your say like a man.”
“This sort of interruption is not parliamentary,” cried Sim. “It isn’t, is it?”
The gentleman from town shook his head.