During the afternoon Robert followed his father into the library. His face was set and stern.
“Look here, father,” he said, “we’ve been thinking—some of us. Things don’t seem fair. We’re all human beings. It’s time for action. We’ve all agreed to speak to our fathers to-day and point things out to them. They’ve been misjudged and maligned, but we’re going to purge them of all that. You see, we’re all human beings, and it’s time for action. We’re all agreed on that. We’ve got equal rights, because we’re all human beings.”
He paused, inserted a finger between his neck and collar as if he found its pressure intolerable, then smoothed back his hair. He was looking almost apoplectic.
“I don’t know whether I make my meaning clear,” he began again.
“You don’t, old chap, whatever it may be,” said his father soothingly. “Perhaps you feel the heat?—or the Spring? You ought to take something cooling, and then lie down for a few hours.”
“You don’t understand,” said Robert desperately. “It’s life or death to civilisation. You see, we’re all human beings, and all equal, and we’ve got equal rights, and yet some have all the things, and some have none. You see, we thought we’d all start at home and get things made more fair there, and our fathers to divide up the money more fairly and give us our real share, and then we could go round teaching other people to give things up to other people and share things out more fairly. You see, we must begin at home, and then we start fair. We’re all human beings with equal rights.”
“You’re so very modest in your demands,” said Robert’s father. “Would half be enough for you? Are you sure you wouldn’t like a little more?”
Robert waved the suggestion aside.
“No,” he said, “you see, you have the others to keep. But we’ve all decided to ask our fathers to-day, then we can start fair and have some funds to go on. A society without funds seems to be so handicapped. And it would be an example to other fathers all over the world. You see——”
At this moment Robert’s mother came in.