, half a dozen women, and their
children being the only attendants, but it was now filled to crowding.

Stukeley's religion was political; his prayers and discourses related to
the position of affairs in Varley rather than to Christianity. They
were a downtrodden people whom he implored to burst the bonds of their
Egyptian taskmasters. The strength he prayed for was the strength to
struggle and to fight. The enemy he denounced was the capitalist rather
than the devil.

Up to that time "King Lud" had but few followers in Varley; but the
fiery discourses in Little Bethel roused among the younger men a
passionate desire to right their alleged wrongs, and to take vengeance
upon those denounced as their oppressors, so the society recruited its
numbers fast. Stukeley was appointed the local secretary, partly because
he was the leading spirit, partly because he alone among its members was
able to write, and under his vigorous impulsion Varley became one of the
leading centers of the organization in West Yorkshire.

It was on a Saturday evening soon after Bill Swinton had become
convalescent. The parlor of the "Brown Cow" was filled with its usual
gathering; a peat fire glowed upon the hearth, and two tallow candles
burned somewhat faintly in the dense smoke. Mugs of beer stood on the
tables, but they were seldom applied to the lips of the smokers, for
they had to do service without being refilled through the long evening.
The silence was broken only by the short puffs at the pipes. All were
thinking over the usual topic, when old Gideon Jones unexpectedly led
their ideas into another channel.

"Oive heern," he said slowly, taking his pipe from his mouth, "as how
Nance Wilson's little gal is wuss."

"Ay, indeed!"

"So oi've heern;"

"Be she now?" and various other exclamations arose from the smokers.

Gideon was pleased with the effect he had produced, and a few minutes
later continued the subject.

"It be the empty coopbud more nor illness, I expect."

There was another chorus of assent, and a still heartier one when he
wound up the subject: "These be hard toimes surely."

Thinking that he had now done sufficient to vindicate his standing
as one of the original thinkers of the village, Gideon relapsed into
silence and smoked away gravely, with his eyes fixed on the fire, in the
post of honor on one side of which was his regular seat. The subject,
however, was too valuable to be allowed to drop altogether, and Luke