nd the British prime
minister was questioned on the subject in the House of Commons. For his
entertainment on the voyage a set of twelve beautiful folio volumes,
bound in black morocco, were prepared. They contained a digest of
prohibition legislation which Chuff had been instrumental in having put
on the statutes. For the first time in years the Bishop was cheered as
he passed about the streets, and he realized that he had never known
how popular he was until it was announced that he was going away.

But still he was not content. One morning, not long before the date set
for his sailing, he sat gloomily at his desk. He was engaged in making
his will, and had found to his secret bitterness that after bequeathing
a few personal trinkets to the office staff there was really no one to
whom he could leave the bulk of his misfortune. Theodolinda, of course,
he had quite cut off from his estate. He only knew that she was living
somewhere with the degraded Quimbleton, carrying on a little psychic
tavern which no laws could reach, in a state of criminal happiness.

From the street, far beneath his open window, he heard the clamor of a
police patrol and leaned eagerly over the sill in the hope of seeing
something that would cheer his black mood. But it was only a man being
arrested for leaning against a lamp-post--a rather common offence at
that time, for most of the normal occupations of the citizens had been
prohibited, and they mooned about the highways in a state of listless
discontent. But then, farther down the channel of the street, he saw
something that caught his eye. A group of people were marching with
flags and signs toward the railway station. SATURDAY SCHOOL PICNIC TO
SOUSE TEMPLE, he read on a banner. He noticed that in spite of all the
laws against smiling in public, these people bore a look of suppressed
merriment. They were obviously out for a good time. A sudden thought
struck him.

That afternoon, in impenetrable disguise, the Bishop paid his first
visit to the Temple of Dunraven Bleak.

The next morning, when his subordinates came to see him about the final
plans for his departure, they were horrified to find him sitting at his
desk wearing in the recesses of his beard what would have been called
(on any other man) a smile.

"I have changed my mind," he said. "I am not going away."

They cried out in amazement, and pointed out to him how sorely in need
of relaxation he was.

"I am planning relaxation