Sometimes we have a night devoted to Bindle's views on life. His philosophy is a thing devoid of broideries and frills. It is the essence of his own experience. Once when Dare had been talking upon the subject of ideals, Bindle had remarked:
"Very pretty to talk about, but they ain't much use in the furniture-movin' line. One in the eye is more likely to make a man be'ave than a month's jawin' about wot 'Earty calls 'brotherly love.'"
Bindle's good-nature makes it possible for him to say without offence what another man could not even hint at.
Windover once remarked that Bindle would go through life saying and doing things impossible to any but a prize-fighter.
"An' why a bruiser, sir?" Bindle had enquired.
"Well, few men care to punch the head of a professional boxer," was the retort.
"It ain't wot yer say, sir," Bindle had remarked, obviously pleased at the compliment. "It's wot's be'ind the words. I ain't got time to look for angels in trousers, or saints in skirts. There ain't many of us wot ain't got a tear or an 'ole somewhere, but it ain't 'elpin' things to put it in the papers."
"But," Jim Dare, one of "Tims'" men, broke in wickedly, "without criticism there'd be no progress."
Bindle was on him like a flash.
"If an angel's lost 'is tail feathers," he retorted, "you bet the other angels ain't goin' to make a song about it. If they was the right sort of angels they'd pull their own out, to show that tail-feathers ain't everythink."