He went on:
"Look here: I am supplied with a large porringer of hot-water gruel,
sprinkled with pepper, crumbled with bread, and a bit of butter in it,
for just the price of a pint of beer, three half-pence. Now, honestly,
is not this much better for me, or for yourself, than the same amount
of filthy beer?"
"Possibly; it is a new view of the case to me," was all that Mr. Watts
could say, evidently conceding that Benjamin was about right.
Benjamin exchanged the press-room for the composing-room, after a few
weeks.
"A treat now, Ben; that is the condition of admission here," said the
men.
"I guess not; I fulfilled that condition in the press-room," answered
Benjamin. "Once will do in this establishment."
"But you _will_," retorted a fellow-worker, enforced by a dozen
voices. "The rule is irrevocable."
"We will see about that," replied Benjamin, with coolness, but
determination.
"Yes, we _will_ see," chimed in a resolute voice.
"And after all your seeing and blustering I shall not do it," added
Benjamin, in a tone that indicated he meant what he said.
"Ben is right," interrupted Mr. Watts, who had listened to the
colloquy; "he has met that condition once in the press-room, and he
will not be required to repeat it. I forbid his doing it."
"It is a very foolish custom any way," said Benjamin, "and the sooner
it is abandoned in England or anywhere else the better.
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