In the tumult Mr. Gresley’s voice, instead of being the solo, became but as one instrument—­albeit a trombone—­in an orchestra.

“But I thoroughly agree with the gentlemen who spoke before me,” said Dick, when peace was restored.  “Total abstinence is a long chalk below temperance, but it’s better than drunkenness any day.  And if a man can’t get on without three-finger nips, let him take the pledge.  There are one or two here to-night who would be the better for it.  But, to my thinking, total abstinence is like a water mattress.  It is good for a sick man, and it’s good for a man with a weak will, which is another kind of illness.  But temperance is for those who are in health.  There is a text in the Bible about wine making glad the heart of man.  That’s a good text, and one to go on.  As often as not texts are like bags, and a man crams all his own rubbish into them, and expects you to take them together.  There are some men, who ought to know better, who actually get out of that text by saying the Bible means unfermented liquor”—­Mr. Gresley became purple.  “Does it?  Then how about the other place where we hear of new wine bursting old bottles.  What makes them burst?  Fermentation, of course, as every village idiot knows.  No, I take it when the Bible says wine it means wine.  Wine’s fermented liquor, and what’s unfermented liquor?  Nothing but ‘pop.’”

Dick pronounced the last word with profound contempt, which was met with enthusiastic applause.

“My last word to you, gentlemen,” continued Dick, “is, keep in mind two points:  first, look out for an honest publican, if there is such an article, who will buy only the best liquor from the best sources, and is not bound by the breweries to sell any stuff they send along.  Join together, and make it hot for a bound publican.  Kick him out, even if he is the Squire’s butler.”  Mr. Pratt’s complexion became apoplectic.  “And the second point is, Remember some men have heads and some haven’t.  It is no use for a lame man entering for a hurdle-race.  A strong man can take his whack—­if it’s with his food—­and it will do him good, while a weak man can’t hang up his hat alter the first smile.”

A storm of applause followed, which was perhaps all the heartier by reason of the furious face of Mr. Gresley.  Dick was clapped continuously as he descended the platform and slowly left the room, feeling in his pockets for his tobacco-pouch.  A squad of young men creaked out after him, and others followed by twos and threes, so that the mellifluous voice of Mr. Pratt was comparatively lost, who, disregarding his position as chairman, now rose to pour oil—­of which, in manner alone, he had always a large supply—­on the troubled waters.  Mr. Pratt had felt a difficulty in interrupting a member of a county family, which with the eye of faith he plainly perceived Dick to be, and at the same time a guest of “Newhaven’s.”  The Pratts experienced in the rare moments of their