"No!" said Margaret; "I think they have too much sense."
"An' I think," replied he, dashing the ashes out of his pipe with so much vehemence that it broke, "it's not that they've too much sense, but that they've too little spirit."
"Oh, father!" said Bessy, "what have ye gained by striking? Just think of that first strike when mother died--how we all had to clem--you the worst of all; and yet many a one went in every week at the same wage, till all were gone in that there was work for; and some went beggars all their lives at after."
"Ay," said he. "That there strike was badly managed. Folk got into th' management of it, as were either fools or not true men. Yo'll see, it'll be different this time."

'No!' said Margaret; 'I think they have too much sense.'
'An' I think,' replied he, dashing the ashes out of his pipe vehemently, 'that they've too little spirit.'
'O, father!' said Bessy, 'what have ye gained by striking? Think of that first strike when mother died - how we all had to clem and go hungry - you the worst of all; and yet many men went in every week at the same wage, and took all the jobs; and some went beggars after.'
'Ay,' said he. 'That there strike was badly managed. It'll be different this time.'
