|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
`Well, anyhow,' persisted Slyme, `I don't think it's a right thing that they should be allowed to go marchin' about like that - driving visitors out of the town.'
`What do you think they ought to do, then?' demanded Owen.
`Let the b--rs go to the bloody workhouse!' shouted Crass.
`But before they could be received there they would have to be absolutely homeless and destitute, and then the ratepayers would have to keep them. It costs about twelve shillings a week for each inmate, so it seems to me that it would be more sensible and economical for the community to employ them on some productive work.'
They had by this time arrived at the yard. The steps and ladders were put away in their places and the