Bulgin.  Who’s talkin’ o’ blacklegs—­mind what you’re saying, will you?

Blacksmith. [A youth with yellow hair and huge arms.] What about the women?

Evans.  They can stand what we can stand, I suppose, can’t they?

Blacksmith.  Ye’ve no wife?

Evans.  An’ don’t want one!

Thomas. [Raising his voice.] Aye!  Give us the power to come to terms with London, lads.

Davies. [A dark, slow-fly, gloomy man.] Go up the platform, if you got anything to say, go up an’ say it.

     [There are cries of “Thomas!” He is pushed towards the
     platform; he ascends it with difficulty, and bares his head,
     waiting for silence.  A hush.]

Red-haired youth. [suddenly.] Coot old Thomas!

     [A hoarse laugh; the bargemen exchange remarks; a hush again,
     and Thomas begins speaking.]

Thomas.  We are all in the tepth together, and it iss Nature that has put us there.

Henry Rous.  It’s London put us there!

Evans.  It’s the Union.

Thomas.  It iss not Lonton; nor it iss not the Union—­it iss Nature.  It iss no disgrace whateffer to a potty to give in to Nature.  For this Nature iss a fery pig thing; it is pigger than what a man is.  There iss more years to my hett than to the hett of any one here.  It is fery pat, look you, this Going against Nature.  It is pat to make other potties suffer, when there is nothing to pe cot py it.

     [A laugh.  Thomas angrily goes on.]

What are ye laughing at?  It is pat, I say!  We are fighting for a principle; there is no potty that shall say I am not a peliever in principle.  Putt when Nature says “No further,” then it is no coot snapping your fingers in her face.

     [A laugh from Roberts, and murmurs of approval.]

This Nature must pe humort.  It is a man’s pisiness to pe pure, honest, just, and merciful.  That’s what Chapel tells you. [To Roberts, angrily.] And, look you, David Roberts, Chapel tells you ye can do that without Going against Nature.

Jago.  What about the Union?

Thomas.  I ton’t trust the Union; they haf treated us like tirt.  “Do what we tell you,” said they.  I haf peen captain of the furnace-men twenty years, and I say to the Union—­[excitedly]—­“Can you tell me then, as well as I can tell you, what iss the right wages for the work that these men do?” For fife and twenty years I haf paid my moneys to the Union and—­[with great excitement]—­for nothings!  What iss that but roguery, for all that this Mr. Harness says!

Evans.  Hear, hear.

Henry Rous.  Get on with you!  Cut on with it then!

Thomas.  Look you, if a man toes not trust me, am I going to trust him?