“Yes; and anything else that they can think of.”
“Ah! that’s just what I says to my mate. I says, ‘It’s like the ’lections used to be.’ I’ve had many a glass of whisky for a vote; and I ain’t much of a hand at politics, so I voted honest for the man as treated me most liberal; and so I will now. I ain’t much of a hand at sermons and prayers neither, but I wouldn’t mind obliging either church or chapel for once in a way, if they’re after bidding for us; but, of course, Miss Tom, I values myself at the highest price, as is only natural.”
“Quite natural, Nelson. But you are mistaken this time. The churches and chapels are not bidding against each other; the people who”—Tom hesitated—“who are good, you know, are joining together to try and make things a little better and more happy for those who are not as well off as themselves. That is all it means.”
“And ain’t we agoing to be persuaded to go neither to church nor to chapel?”
“No; though we should all be glad if you went somewhere—we don’t care where. You would have a welcome in either case, of course.”
“Well, that beats all!” said Nelson. “And is this ’ere room to be lighted up comfortably every night for us?”
“Yes, it is; and we shall be glad if you will all come every night and enjoy it.”
“What’s this stuff I’m a-drinking, Miss Tom?”
“Beer.”
“What sort o’ beer?”