"Built for a reading-room," said Friar Bacon; "but not much used--
yet."

The dreary sage, looking in through the window, perceiving a fixed
reading-desk within, and inquiring its use:

"I have Service there," said Friar Bacon. "They never went anywhere
to hear prayers, and of course it would be hopeless to help them to
be happier and better, if they had no religious feeling at all."

"The whole place is very pretty." Thus the sage.

"I am glad you think so. I built it for the holders of the
Allotment-grounds, and gave it them: only requiring them to manage
it by a committee of their own appointing, and never to get drunk
there. They never have got drunk there."

"Yet they have their beer freely?"

"O yes. As much as they choose to buy. The club gets its beer
direct from the brewer, by the barrel. So they get it good; at once
much cheaper, and much better, than at the public-house. The
members take it in turns to be steward, and serve out the beer: if
a man should decline to serve when his turn came, he would pay a
fine of twopence. The steward lasts, as long as the barrel lasts.
When there is a new barrel, there is a new steward."

"What a noble fire is roaring up that chimney!"