name to call a 'ouse, ain't it?' he said. '"The Cave." I
wonder what made 'em give it a name like that.'

'They calls 'em all sorts of outlandish names nowadays,' said old Jack
Linden.

'There's generally some sort of meaning to it, though,' observed Payne.
'For instance, if a bloke backed a winner and made a pile, 'e might
call 'is 'ouse, "Epsom Lodge" or "Newmarket Villa".'

'Or sometimes there's a hoak tree or a cherry tree in the garding,'
said another man; 'then they calls it "Hoak Lodge" or "Cherry Cottage".'

'Well, there's a cave up at the end of this garden,' said Harlow with a
grin, 'you know, the cesspool, what the drains of the 'ouse runs into;
praps they called it after that.'

'Talking about the drains,' said old Jack Linden when the laughter
produced by this elegant joke had ceased. 'Talking about the drains, I
wonder what they're going to do about them; the 'ouse ain't fit to live
in as they are now, and as for that bloody cesspool it ought to be done
away with.'

'So it is going to be,' replied Crass. 'There's going to be a new set
of drains altogether, carried right out to the road and connected with
the main.'

Crass really knew no more about what was going to be done in this
matter than did Linden, but he felt certain that this course would be
adopted. He never missed an opportunity of enhancing his own prestige
with the men by insinuating that he was in the confidence of the firm.

'That's goin' to cost a good bit,' said Linden.

'Yes, I suppose it will,' replied Crass, 'but money ain't no object to
old Sweater. 'E's got tons of it; you know 'e's got a large wholesale
business in London and shops all over the bloody country, besides the
one 'e's got 'ere.'

Easton was still reading the Obscurer; he was not about to understand
exactly what the compiler of the figures was driving at--probably the
latter never intended that anyone should understand--but he was
conscious of a growing feeling of indignation and hatred against
foreigners of every description, who were ruining this country, and he
began to think that it was about time we did something to protect
ourselves. Still, it was a very difficult question: to tell the truth,
he himself could not make head or tail of it. At length he said aloud,
addressing himself to Crass:

'Wot do you think of this 'ere fissical policy, Bob?'

'Ain't thought much about it,' replied Crass. 'I don't never worry my
'ed about politics.'

'Muc