order and keep it together."  "And a pretty
thing to keep together," I says, "if all be true."
"All be true," he says, "what do you mean?"
"I mean," I says, "what's written in this
book, which my brother John gave me last
night, and told me to be sure and read it to
you." "What book is it?" he says. "It's
what they call a blue-book," I says. "La,
Susan," he says, " who would have thought of
you reading a blue-book?"  "I shouldn't have
thought it myself," I says, "for I always
thought as they were dry things as nobody ever
did read, but used to wrap up butter and light
the fire with; but I find different," I says,
"for this blue-book, which is by Mr. Tidd
Pratt, a gentleman under government, tells a
many things which it is only right that every
working man's wife should know. If you are
able to keep your eyes open," I says, "just
listen to this, which is the evidence of a working
man like yourself, who was fool enough to
go and be an Odd Fellow: 'It has been the
custom among the members ever since the
commencement of this society, which was in
1837, to spend in drink every club night at the
rate of threepence from every member, which
was taken out of the contributions, and which
will amount up to the present time to
367£, 4s. Every member was compelled to
pay one shilling for drink on the feast day,
whether he came or not, besides eight shillings
a year spent for drink on committee nights, and
for the last seventeen years it exceeds nine
shillings a year, and sixpence extra paid for
every person becoming a member on club nights,
and one shilling extra on becoming a member
on feast days.' And here's the bill all regularly
made out. Spent in drink, from 9th September,
1837, to 15th October, 1862:

And all this, besides what the members spent
on their own account, for the benefit of the
public-house where the lodge was held. Another
working man tells us that his lodge paid
eighteen pounds for a flag and ten pounds for a
drum. Now, what on earth a sick fund wants
with a drum, is past my comprehension. And
perhaps you will just listen to what this poor
man says: 'They have turned me out,' he says,
'because I would not pay for the dinner I never
had. They are in the habit, every feast day, of
taking so much money out of the box towards
drinking—generally about thirty shillings, I
think—also sixpence each towards the dinner.
There are one or two teetotallers in the club, so
last feast day (this I know for a fact) they
had taken some money out of the box for drink;
one of these teetotallers asked for a glass of
teetotal drink; he was refused, and told that he
might buy it for himself. Some of the other
members stopped till two or three o'clock the
next morning to finish the drink bought with
the money taken out of the box. Three or four
of them were found next morning in a beastly
state of intoxication, and carried home.' And
that's the way you Odd Fellows provide for a
rainy day, and do your duty to your families.
And here's a nice bill to be charged to the funds
of a benevolent society supported by poor
working men:

I declare, if George wasn't a nodding and fast
asleep as a church. "George," I says, "you
have had your evening, and now I'll have mine;"
and I stirred him up and made him listen. "Look
here," I says, "what Mr. Tidd Pratt says, a
gentleman as is under government, and his
business to know all about. 'The older you
get,' he says, 'the worse you get; and in one
year,' he says, 'no less than one hundred and
thirty-seven friendly societies have been
dissolved and wound up,' through not being able
to carry on, their expenses being greater than
they could afford, all along of ale, and dinners,
and drums, and such-like things, as are contrary
to the Act of Parliament, which you have all to
yourselves, and which you are so proud of. You
brag about your Act of Parliament, but do you
know what it says?"  "No," he says, "I never
read it, and I suppose nobody ever did."  "Oh
yes," I says, "I have, and I can tell you
that ale, and feasts, and banners, and drums
taken out of the funds, is contrary to the
act, and, what's more," I says, "proceedings
may be taken against you for paying away the
funds for any such purpose, and I've a great
mind to write to Mr. Tidd Pratt about your
doings at the Yorkshire Grey."  "Oh, bother
Mr. Tidd Pratt," he says, "I want to go to
bed;" and with that he gets up and bolts out of
the room, and up-stairs, and when I goes up, three
minutes after, he is sprawling all over the bed,
and snoring like a bull, and there was his clothes
lying scattered over the room, and his money
out of his waistcoat-pocket lying all about the
floor. Now, I'm not one to search my husband's
pockets, but when I find money lying about in
that promiscuous manner, it's only natural that I
should pick it up and count it. Well, there was
three shillings in silver, half a screw of tobacco,
and threepence-halfpenny in coppers, and, to my