“Mr. Geoffrey, are ye saved?” she demanded in awe-struck tones.

“Why, really, Mrs. Trapes, I—­”

“Because, Mr. Geoffrey, this day it behooveth us all t’ think of our souls an’ th’ hereafter, I reckon.”

“Souls?” said Ravenslee, staring in his turn.

“Fire,” she continued, shaking portentous head, “fire I’m prepared for; a earthquake I could endoor; battle, murder, and sudden death I could abide; poverty is me lot, Mr. Geoffrey, an’ hardship is me portion, an’ for all sich am I dooly prepared, sich things bein’ nacheral; but fer this—­well, there!”

“What is the matter, Mrs. Trapes?”

“Matter, Mr. Geoffrey?  Well, the millenyum’s at hand, that’s all—­the lion is about t’ lay down with th’ lamb, tigers has lost their taste fer blood, an’ snakes an’ serpints has shed their vennymous fangs!  Mr. Geoffrey—­the day is at hand—­beware!”

“What in the world—­” began Ravenslee, but Mrs. Trapes stayed him with uplifted skewer, and drew from the mysterious recesses of her apron a folded circular which she proceeded to spread open and from which she read in a hollow voice as follows: 

Notice August 1, 1910.

On and after the above date, all tenants soever residing within the tenement house known as Mulligan’s are warned that all rents will be reduced by fifty per cent.

By order.

“Now what,” said Mrs. Trapes, refolding the circular very reverently and shutting it into the testament, “jest what d’ye think o’ that?”

“Quite a—­er—­remarkable document, Mrs. Trapes!”

“Remarkable?” snorted Mrs. Trapes.

“Yes,” said Ravenslee, beginning to fill his pipe, “extraordinary, most extraordinary—­er—­very much so—­”

“Extraordinary?  Mr. Geoffrey, is that all you got t’ say about it?” And Mrs. Trapes sniffed loudly.

“Well, what more should I say?”

“Why, ain’t it th’ wonder o’ th’ whole round world?  Ain’t it th’ merrycle of all time?”

“Certainly!  Not a doubt of it!” he agreed.  “By the way, what do you happen to have for supper?  You see I’ve been—­”

“Supper?”

“I’m quite hungry—­I’m always hungry lately and—­”

“Hungry!” ejaculated Mrs. Trapes, rolling her eyes, “here I tell him of wonders an’ omens beyond pore huming understanding an’—­he’s hungry!  Lord, ain’t that jest like a man!  A man’s soul, if a man has a soul, lays in his stummick.  Hungry!  But you shall be fed—­prompt, Mr. Geoffrey.  How’ll b’iled salmon an’ peas soot?”

“Splendidly!  And I think—­”

“‘On and after,’” said Mrs. Trapes, slowly and dreamily, “’on and after the above date, all tenants soever residin’—­I’ve learned it by heart, Mr. Geoffrey.  Then it goes on to say, ’within the tennyment house known as Mulligan’s are warned’—­hum!  I wonder why ’warned’?—­’are warned that all rents will be re-dooced by fifty per cent!’ Fifty per cent!” she repeated in a dreamy rapture, “which is jest half, y’ see.  An’, Mr. Geoffrey, that’s jest what’s got me plumb scared—­it’s all so unnacheral.  I’ve heard o’ rents bein’ rose—­constant, but who ever heard of ’em bein’ took down before?  Well, well!  My land!  Well, well!”