DEEP WATERS

By W.W. JACOBS




STRIKING HARD

"You've what?" demanded Mrs. Porter, placing the hot iron carefully on
its stand and turning a heated face on the head of the family.

"Struck," repeated Mr. Porter; "and the only wonder to me is we've stood
it so long as we have. If I was to tell you all we've 'ad to put up with
I don't suppose you'd believe me."

"Very likely," was the reply. "You can keep your fairy-tales for them
that like 'em. They're no good to me."

"We stood it till flesh and blood could stand it no longer," declared her
husband, "and at last we came out, shoulder to shoulder, singing. The
people cheered us, and one of our leaders made 'em a speech."

"I should have liked to 'ave heard the singing," remarked his wife. "If
they all sang like you, it must ha' been as good as a pantermime! Do you
remember the last time you went on strike?"

"This is different," said Mr. Porter, with dignity.

"All our things went, bit by bit," pursued his wife, "all the money we