“I do indeed, all the difference in the world—­To me, there is no greater difference, than between an educated man and an uneducated man.”

“And where does it come in?” asked Kirk.

“But wait a bit, now,” said Aaron Sisson.  “You take an educated man—­ take Pender.  What’s his education for?  What does he scheme for?—­What does he contrive for?  What does he talk for?—­”

“For all the purposes of his life,” replied the landlady.

“Ay, an’ what’s the purpose of his life?” insisted Aaron Sisson.

“The purpose of his life,” repeated the landlady, at a loss.  “I should think he knows that best himself.”

“No better than I know it—­and you know it,” said Aaron.

“Well,” said the landlady, “if you know, then speak out.  What is it?”

“To make more money for the firm—­and so make his own chance of a rise better.”

The landlady was baffled for some moments.  Then she said: 

“Yes, and suppose that he does.  Is there any harm in it?  Isn’t it his duty to do what he can for himself?  Don’t you try to earn all you can?”

“Ay,” said Aaron.  “But there’s soon a limit to what I can earn.—­It’s like this.  When you work it out, everything comes to money.  Reckon it as you like, it’s money on both sides.  It’s money we live for, and money is what our lives is worth—­nothing else.  Money we live for, and money we are when we’re dead:  that or nothing.  An’ it’s money as is between the masters and us.  There’s a few educated ones got hold of one end of the rope, and all the lot of us hanging on to th’ other end, an’ we s’ll go on pulling our guts out, time in, time out—­”

“But they’ve got th’ long end o’ th’ rope, th’ masters has,” said Brewitt.

“For as long as one holds, the other will pull,” concluded Aaron Sisson philosophically.

“An’ I’m almighty sure o’ that,” said Kirk.  There was a little pause.

“Yes, that’s all there is in the minds of you men,” said the landlady.  “But what can be done with the money, that you never think of—­the education of the children, the improvement of conditions—­”

“Educate the children, so that they can lay hold of the long end of the rope, instead of the short end,” said the doctor, with a little giggle.

“Ay, that’s it,” said Brewitt.  “I’ve pulled at th’ short end, an’ my lads may do th’ same.”

“A selfish policy,” put in the landlady.

“Selfish or not, they may do it.”

“Till the crack o’ doom,” said Aaron, with a glistening smile.

“Or the crack o’ th’ rope,” said Brewitt.

“Yes, and then what?” cried the landlady.

“Then we all drop on our backsides,” said Kirk.  There was a general laugh, and an uneasy silence.

“All I can say of you men,” said the landlady, “is that you have a narrow, selfish policy.—­Instead of thinking of the children, instead of thinking of improving the world you live in—­”