ower sins, and Muster Shenstone is allus
preachin' about 'em. But it's the sins o' the _Garmins_ I be thinkin' of.
If it hadn't a bin for the sins o' the Garmins my Tom wouldn't ha' lost
'is right hand."

"An' ower Jim wouldn't be goin' into them trenches next November as ever
is," put in Batts. "It's the sins o' the Garmins as ha' done _that_, an'
nothin' as you or I ha' done, Peter."

Halsey shook his head assentingly.

"Noa--for all that pratin', pacifist chap was sayin' lasst week. I
didn't believe a word ee said. 'Yis,' I says, 'if you want this war to
stop, I'm o' your mind,' I says, 'but when you tells me as _England_
done it--you'm--'"

The short man burst into a cackling laugh.

"'You'm a liar!' Did you say that, Peter?"

Peter fenced a little.

"There be more ways nor one o' speakin' your mind," he said at last. "But
I stood up to un. Did you hear, Batts, as Great End Farm is let?"

The old man turned an animated look on his companion.

"Well, for sure!" said Batts, astonished. "An' who's the man?"

"It's not a man. It's a woman."

"A woman!" repeated Batts, wondering. "Well, these be funny times to live
in, when the women go ridin' astride an' hay-balin', an' steam-ploughin',
an' the Lord knows what. And now they must be takin' the farms, and
turnin' out the men. Well, for sure."

A mild and puzzled laughter crossed the speaker's face.

Halsey nodded.

"An' now they've got the vote. That's the top on't! My old missis, she
talks poltiks now to me of a night. I don't mind her, now the childer be
all gone. But I'd ha' bid her mind her own business when they was yoong
an' wanted seein' to."

"Now, what can a woman knoa about poltiks?" said Batts, still in the same
tone of pleasant rumination. "It isn't in natur. _We_ warn't given the
producin' o' the babies--we'd ha' cried out if we 'ad been!"

A chuckle passed from one old man to the other.

"Well, onyways the women is all in a flutter about the votin'," said
Halsey, lighting his pipe with old hands that shook. "An' there's chaps
already coomin' round lookin' out for it."

"You bet there is!" was Batts's amused reply. "But they'll take their
toime, will the women. 'Don't you try to hustle-bustle me like you're
doin',' say my missus sharp-like to a Labour chap as coom round lasst
week, 'cos yo' won't get nothin' by it.' And she worn't no more
forthcomin' to the Conservative man when ee called."

"Will she do what _you_ tell her, Batts?" a