ent from the face of the earth."

"We do not fear your threats," said Quimbleton stoutly. "We are not
alarmed by your frown."

He was, greatly, but he was sparring for time to put his thoughts in
order. He started to say "Uneasy lies the head that wears a frown,"
which was an aphorism of his own he thought highly of, but Theodolinda
checked him. She knew that her father detested puns. It was perhaps his
only virtue.

"Bishop Chuff," said Quimbleton, "perhaps you are not aware of the
strength and tenacity of the sentiment we represent. I assure you that
if you underestimate the power of the millions of thirsty mouths that
speak through us, you will rue the consequences. Trouble is brewing--"

"Neither trouble, nor anything else, is brewing nowadays," said the
terrible Bishop.

Theodolinda saw that Quimbleton was losing ground by his incorrigible
habit of talking before he said anything. She broke in impetuously, and
explained the plan for the Perpetual Souse. Her father listened to the
end with his cold, forbidding gaze, while the sensitive needle of the
recording instrument on the mantel danced and wagged in agitation.

"So this is your scheme, is it?" he said. "Abandoned offspring, you
deserve the gallows."

"Wait a moment," said Quimbleton. "Now comes the other side of the
argument. If you grant us this concession we in turn will put you in
possession of a magnificent idea. You think that you have prohibited
everything. Your vetoes cumber the earth. But there is still one thing
you have forgotten to prohibit."

"What is it?" said the Bishop coldly. His hard face was unmoved, but
his eyes brightened a trifle.

"There is one thing you have forgotten to prohibit," said Quimbleton
solemnly. "I can hardly conceive how it escaped you. The one thing that
harasses human beings over the whole civilized world. The one thing
which, if you were to abolish it, would make your name, foul as that
now is, blessed in the ears of men. Oh, the joy of still having
something to prohibit! The unmixed bliss and high privilege of the
vetoing function! I envy you, from my heart, in still having something
to forbid."

The Bishop stirred uneasily in his chair. "What is it?" he said.

Quimbleton watched him with a steady and slightly annoying smile.

"I like to dwell in imagination upon your surprise when you realize
what you have overlooked. It seems so simple! To abolish, prohibit,
banish, and remove, at one swoop, the chief pre