"Any of them will amount to more with water than they will with beer," retorted Benjamin, who felt competent to support his side of the question. He went on:
"Look here: I am supplied with a large porringer of hot-water gruel, sprinkled with pepper, crumbled with bread, and a bit of butter in it, for just the price of a pint of beer, three half-pence. Now, honestly, is not this much better for me, or for yourself, than the same amount of filthy beer?"
"Possibly; it is a new view of the case to me," was all that Mr. Watts could say, evidently conceding that Benjamin was about right.
Benjamin exchanged the press-room for the composing-room, after a few weeks.
"A treat now, Ben; that is the condition of admission here," said the men.
"I guess not; I fulfilled that condition in the press-room," answered
Benjamin. "Once will do in this establishment."
"But you will," retorted a fellow-worker, enforced by a dozen voices. "The rule is irrevocable."
"We will see about that," replied Benjamin, with coolness, but determination.
"Yes, we will see," chimed in a resolute voice.
"And after all your seeing and blustering I shall not do it," added
Benjamin, in a tone that indicated he meant what he said.