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Updated: May 2, 2025
He was so swept away with delight that for a while he was tempted to forget what sort of people they were. But it came back to him suddenly, when they had returned to Everley's office. He sat gazing at the young lawyer with such a worried expression on his face that the other asked, "What's the matter?" Tell me, Mr. Everley," said the boy, "how can the Bartons believe in free love?"
At Salisbury symptoms of rioting broke out one market day; some of the farmers, attending the market, were hustled and insulted; some of the sacks of corn were also cut by the rioters, and the corn let about the marketplace; and the Cornet of the Everley troop of cavalry, Mr.
The hut itself was half demolished by wind and weather; its tenants had emigrated to the new house on Squire Benson's land; and after two or three attempts to understand and to follow the directions as to the spot given us by the good farmer at Everley, we were forced to give up the search.
There was a pause. "You see," explained Everley, "we are a political party; and we can't keep anybody from joining us who wants to. And because we are an advanced party, all sorts of wild people come to us. How can we help that?" "But," exclaimed Samuel, "you are against religion!" "We have nothing to do with religion," replied the other. "I told you we are a political party.
After supper that evening came Everley with Friederich Bremer, to take Samuel to the meeting of the local, where he was to tell his story. The "local" met in an obscure hall, over a grocery shop. There were present those whom Samuel had met the night before, and about a score of others. Most of them were working-men, but there were several who appeared to be well-to-do shopkeepers and clerks.
He was a young chap, frank and boyish-looking, and Samuel's heart warmed to him at once. "Comrade Everley," said the carpet designer, "here is a boy you ought to help. Tell him all about it, Samuel you can trust him." So Samuel told his tale once more. And the other listened with breathless interest, and with many exclamations of incredulity and delight.
"Comrades," he said, "for the past year I have been urging that the local must make a fight for free speech in this town. And it seems to me that the occasion has now come. If we do not take up this fight, we might just as well give up." "That's right," cried Beggs, the old carpenter. "I took the liberty of ordering circulars," continued Everley.
And Robert Everley, the head-gamekeeper's strapping son, who was settled now in one of the home farms of Burnham, blushed and looked apologetic as the earl hailed him one day, "Hey, Bob! what's this I hear about you, lad? I wonder what Lady Eleanor will say to it, stealing her godchild from her." "I couldn't help it, your lordship," replied the embarrassed Bob.
"But but " gasped the boy, "then am I a Socialist?" "Nine tenths of the people in the country are Socialists," replied Everley "only they haven't found it out yet." "But," cried Samuel, "you ought to teach them!" "We're doing our best," laughed the other. "Come and help us." Samuel was quite dumfounded. "But how do people come to have all these false ideas about you?" he asked.
The members of the local had been anxious about Samuel all day. Everley had come in twice in the afternoon, to make sure that he was safe; and he came over again after supper, and said that Beggs and Lippman and the Bartons and himself were coming to act as a body guard to take Samuel to the meeting.
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