And I think it will be worth while to dwell a little on the story of this same soup-kitchen; it is significant, and shall take the place of abstract comment on Miss Lant's philanthropic enterprises.
The kitchen had been doing successful work for some years; the society which established it entrusted its practical conduct to very practical people, a man and wife who were themselves of the nether world, and knew the ways thereof.

The 'stock' which formed the basis of the soup was wholesome and nutritious; the peas were of excellent quality; twopence a quart was the price at which this fluid could be purchased (one penny if a ticket from a member of the committee were presented), and sometimes as much as five hundred quarts would be sold in a day.
Satisfactory enough this.

When the people came with complaints, saying that they were tired of this particular soup, and would like another kind for a change, Mr.and Mrs.Batterby, with perfect understanding of the situation, bade their customers 'take it or leave it--an' none o' your cheek here, or you won't get nothing at all!' The result was much good-humour all round.
But the present year saw a change in the constitution of the committee: two or three philanthropic ladies of great conscientiousness began to inquire busily into the working of the soup-kitchen, and they soon found reason to be altogether dissatisfied with Mr.and Mrs.Batterby.
No, no; these managers were of too coarse a type; they spoke grossly; what possibility of their exerting a humanising influence on the people to whom they dispensed soup?
Soup and refinement must be disseminated at one and the same time, over the same counter.

Mr.and Mrs.Batterby were dismissed, and quite a new order of things began.

Not only were the ladies zealous for a high ideal in the matter of soup-distributing, they also aimed at practical economy in the use of funds.