’Do you taste each dish as it goes in, in virtue of your office?  I hope you have a white wand.’

’I was very scrupulous, at first, in confining myself to the mere purchasing part, and even in that I rather obeyed the men’s orders conveyed through the housekeeper, than went by my own judgment.  At one time, the beef was too large, at another the mutton was not fat enough.  I think they saw how careful I was to leave them free, and not to intrude my own ideas upon them; so, one day, two or three of the men—­my friend Higgins among them—­asked me if I would not come in and take a snack.  It was a very busy day, but I saw that the men would be hurt if, after making the advance, I didn’t meet them half-way, so I went in, and I never made a better dinner in my life.  I told them (my next neighbours I mean, for I’m no speech-maker) how much I’d enjoyed it; and for some time, whenever that especial dinner recurred in their dietary, I was sure to be met by these men, with a “Master, there’s hot-pot for dinner to-day, win yo’ come?” If they had not asked me, I would no more have intruded on them than I’d have gone to the mess at the barracks without invitation.’

‘I should think you were rather a restraint on your hosts’ conversation.  They can’t abuse the masters while you’re there.  I suspect they take it out on non-hot-pot days.’

’Well! hitherto we’ve steered clear of all vexed questions.  But if any of the old disputes came up again, I would certainly speak out my mind next hot-pot day.  But you are hardly acquainted with our Darkshire fellows, for all you’re a Darkshire man yourself They have such a sense of humour, and such a racy mode of expression!  I am getting really to know some of them now, and they talk pretty freely before me.’

’Nothing like the act of eating for equalising men.  Dying is nothing to it.  The philosopher dies sententiously—­the pharisee ostentatiously—­the simple-hearted humbly—­the poor idiot blindly, as the sparrow falls to the ground; the philosopher and idiot, publican and pharisee, all eat after the same fashion—­given an equally good digestion.  There’s theory for theory for you!’

‘Indeed I have no theory; I hate theories.’

’I beg your pardon.  To show my penitence, will you accept a ten pound note towards your marketing, and give the poor fellows a feast?’

’Thank you; but I’d rather not.  They pay me rent for the oven and cooking-places at the back of the mill:  and will have to pay more for the new dining-room.  I don’t want it to fall into a charity.  I don’t want donations.  Once let in the principle, and I should have people going, and talking, and spoiling the simplicity of the whole thing.’

‘People will talk about any new plan.  You can’t help that.’

’My enemies, if I have any, may make a philanthropic fuss about this dinner-scheme; but you are a friend, and I expect you will pay my experiment the respect of silence.  It is but a new broom at present, and sweeps clean enough.  But by-and-by we shall meet with plenty of stumbling-blocks, no doubt.’