sorry for them, for they’re all old enough to know that ’wine is a mocker, strong drink is ragin’, and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.’  But when the crash comes and the swellin’ waters burst in they get sober pret’ quick and come rushin’ up on deck with pale faces to see what’s wrong, and I’ve often seen a big bowl whirl ’round and ‘round kind o’ dizzy and say ‘woe is me!’ and sink to the bottom.  Mrs. Evans told me that.  Anyway I do save them at last, when they see what whiskey is doin’ for them.  I rub them all up and send them home.  The steel knives—­they’re the worst of all.  But though they’re black and stained with sin, they’re still our brothers, and so we give them the gold cure—­that’s the bath-brick, and they make a fresh start.

“When I sweep the floor I pertend I’m the army of the Lord that comes to clear the way from dust and sin, let the King of Glory in.  Under the stove the hordes of sin are awful thick, they love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil!  But I say the ’sword of the Lord and of Gideon!’ and let them have it!  Sometimes I pertend I’m the woman that lost the piece of silver and I sweep the house diligently till I find it, and once Mrs. Evans did put ten cents in a corner just for fun for me, and I never know when she’s goin’ to do something like that.”

Here Maudie Ducker, who had been listening with growing wonder interrupted Pearl with the cry of “Oh, here’s pa and Mr. Evans.  They’re going to take our pictures!”

The little girls were immediately roused out of the spell that Pearlie’s story had put upon them, and began to group themselves under the trees, arranging their little skirts and frills.

The czar had toddled on his uncertain little fat legs around to the back door, for he had caught sight of a red head which he knew and liked very much.  It belonged to Mary McSorley, the eldest of the McSorley family, who had brought over to Mrs. Ducker the extra two quarts of milk which Mrs. Ducker had ordered for the occasion.

Mary sat on the back step until Mrs. Ducker should find time to empty her pitcher.  Mary was strictly an outsider.  Mary’s father was a Reformer.  He ran the opposition paper to dear Mr. Evans.  Mary was never well dressed, partly accounted for by the fact that the angels had visited the McSorley home so often.  Therefore, for these reasons, Mary sat on the back step, a rank outsider.

The czar, who knew nothing of these things, began to “goo” as soon as he saw her.  Mary reached out her arms.  The czar stumbled into them and Mary fell to kissing his bald head.  She felt more at home with a baby in her arms.

It was at this unfortunate moment that Mr. Ducker and Mr. Evans came around to the rear of the house.  Mr. Evans was beginning to think rather more favourably of Mr. Ducker, as the prospective Conservative member.  He might do all right—­there are plenty worse—­he has no brains—­but that does not matter.  What need has a man of brains when he goes into politics?  Brainy men make the trouble.  The Grits made that mistake once, elected a brainy man, and they have had no peace since.