The real point and delight of that Corporation Sunday was not fully appreciated till later.  It had been expected that the collection after the sermon would be much larger than usual, because the congregation was much larger than usual.  But the church-wardens were startled to find it four times as large as usual.  They were further startled to find only three threepenny-bits among all the coins.  This singularity led to comment and to note-comparing.  Everybody had noticed for weeks past a growing dearth of threepenny-bits.  Indeed, threepenny-bits had practically vanished from circulation in the Five Towns.  On the Monday it became known that the clerks of the various branches of the Universal Thrift Club, Limited, had paid into the banks enormous and unparalleled quantities of threepenny-bits, and for at least a week afterwards everybody paid for everything in threepenny-bits.  And the piquant news passed from mouth to mouth that Denry, to the simple end of ensuring a thumping collection for charities on Corporation Sunday, had used the vast organisation of the Thrift Club to bring about a famine of threepenny-bits.  In the annals of the town that Sunday is referred to as “Threepenny-bit Sunday,” because it was so happily devoid of threepenny-bits.

A little group of councillors were discussing Denry.

“What a card!” said one, laughing joyously.  “He’s a rare ’un, no mistake.”

“Of course, this’ll make him more popular than ever,” said another.  “We’ve never had a man to touch him for that.”

“And yet,” demanded Councillor Barlow, “what’s he done?  Has he ever done a day’s work in his life?  What great cause is he identified with?”

“He’s identified,” said the speaker, “with the great cause of cheering us all up.”

* * * * *

Printed by Jarrold & Sons Ltd.  Norwich