"She wur too goody-goody for me," replied Tom. "I am noan baan to be a saint, I am going to enjoy mysen."
"Weel, tha' won't be a saint if tha' has much to do with Polly Powell.
She's noan a saint," and the lad laughed meaningly. "Still her
feyther's got a bit of brass. I reckon he will have all thine, Tom;
Jim Parkin told me that tha' spent four shillings at the Thorn and
Thistle last night."
"Well, what if I did?" asked Tom.
"Ay, it's noan my business, but I think thee'rt a fool. If a lass like
Alice Lister took up wi' me, I would not throw myself away on Polly
Powell. Thou'lt ne'er mak' much on 'er. She'll lead thee a dog's
life, Tom, and tak' all tha' brass."
"Well, I reckon it's my business," retorted Tom.
"Then it's a fool's business," replied the other.
This kind of thing made Tom uncomfortable, but it didn't turn him aside from the path on which he was walking. There could be no doubt about it, Tom's character was deteriorating, and during the next two months he not only declared that he had chucked religion altogether, but that he meant to enjoy life. Tom spent most of his evenings at the Thorn and Thistle, and as a consequence his studies were neglected. Not that there was much outward difference in him; he still remained fairly sober, although on more than one occasion he was seen leaving the Thorn and Thistle at closing time with staggering footsteps; it never caused him to lose any work, however.
Meanwhile dark clouds began to arise in the nation's sky. People had given only a passing thought to the news of the murder of the Crown Prince of Austria, but presently when Austria sent her outrageous ultimatum to Serbia, and the people read what Sir Edward Grey said about it, they began to talk seriously. For there is no part in England where politics have such a keen interest for the working-classes as they have in Lancashire. Almost every man there is a politician, and there are but few, especially among the older men, who have not an intelligent grasp not only of home, but of international affairs.
"I'll tell you what," said one manufacturer to another as they stood on the steps of the Mechanics' Institute, "those Germans mean war; they have been preparing for it for years, and they are trying to force it."
"Nay," replied the other, "but I doan't see how it can affect us, except"—and he laughed meaningly—"except for our benefit."