er THIS world. I don't believe I've
been to church more than arf a dozen times since I've been
married--that's over fifteen years ago now--and then it's been when the
kids 'ave been christened. The old woman goes sometimes and of course
the young 'uns goes; you've got to tell 'em something or other, and
they might as well learn what they teaches at the Sunday School as
anything else.'

A general murmur of approval greeted this. It seemed to be the almost
unanimous opinion, that, whether it were true or not, 'religion' was a
nice thing to teach children.

'I've not been even once since I was married,' said Harlow, 'and I
sometimes wish to Christ I 'adn't gorn then.'

'I don't see as it matters a dam wot a man believes,' said Philpot, 'as
long as you don't do no 'arm to nobody. If you see a poor b--r wot's
down on 'is luck, give 'im a 'elpin' 'and. Even if you ain't got no
money you can say a kind word. If a man does 'is work and looks arter
'is 'ome and 'is young 'uns, and does a good turn to a fellow creature
when 'e can, I reckon 'e stands as much chance of getting into
'eaven--if there IS sich a place--as some of there 'ere Bible-busters,
whether 'e ever goes to church or chapel or not.'

These sentiments were echoed by everyone with the solitary exception of
Slyme, who said that Philpot would find out his mistake after he was
dead, when he would have to stand before the Great White Throne for
judgement!

'And at the Last Day, when yer sees the moon turned inter Blood, you'll
be cryin' hout for the mountings and the rocks to fall on yer and 'ide
yer from the wrath of the Lamb!'

The others laughed derisively.

'I'm a Bush Baptist meself,' remarked the man on the upturned pail.
This individual, Dick Wantley by name, was of what is usually termed a
'rugged' cast of countenance. He reminded one strongly of an ancient
gargoyle, or a dragon.

Most of the hands had by now lit their pipes, but there were a few who
preferred chewing their tobacco. As they smoked or chewed they
expectorated upon the floor or into the fire. Wantley was one of those
who preferred chewing and he had been spitting upon the floor to such
an extent that he was by this time partly surrounded by a kind of
semicircular moat of dark brown spittle.

'I'm a Bush Baptist!' he shouted across the moat, 'and you all knows
wot that is.'

This confession of faith caused a fresh outburst of hilarity, because
of course everyone knew what a