through the blood of the workers. He added that we had no quarrel
with Germany half as bad as we had with our own capitalists. He
looked forward to the day when British soldiers would leap from
their trenches and extend the hand of friendship to their German
comrades.

'No me!' said a solemn voice. 'I'm not seekin' a bullet in my
wame,' - at which there was laughter and cat-calls.

Tombs followed and made a worse hash of it. He was determined
to speak, as he would have put it, to democracy in its own language,
so he said 'hell' several times, loudly but without conviction.
Presently he slipped into the manner of the lecturer, and the audience
grew restless. 'I propose to ask myself a question -' he began,
and from the back of the hall came - 'And a damned sully answer
ye'll get.' After that there was no more Tombs.

I followed with extreme nervousness, and to my surprise got a
fair hearing. I felt as mean as a mangy dog on a cold morning, for I
hated to talk rot before soldiers - especially before a couple of
Royal Scots Fusiliers, who, for all I knew, might have been in my
own brigade. My line was the plain, practical, patriotic man, just
come from the colonies, who looked at things with fresh eyes, and
called for a new deal. I was very moderate, but to justify my
appearance there I had to put in a wild patch or two, and I got
these by impassioned attacks on the Ministry of Munitions. I mixed
up a little mild praise of the Germans, whom I said I had known all
over the world for decent fellows. I received little applause, but no
marked dissent, and sat down with deep thankfulness.