the benefit of the different churches, while the Ponsonbys gave a lawn
party for the orphan asylum, and considering that they had done their
duty, straightway forgot the village.

The village did not forget; it had observed and has begun to put in
practice. The first symptom was noticed by Evan. Last summer several
family horses of respectable mien and Roman noses appeared with their
tails banged. Not docked, mind you, but squared-off as closely as might
be without resorting to cruelty; while their venerable heads,
accustomed to turn freely and look their drivers in the face
reproachfully if kept standing too long, were held in place by overdraw
checks. At the same time the driver's seat in the buggy or runabout was
raised from beneath so as to tilt the occupant forward into an almost
standing posture. This worked well enough in an open wagon, but in a
buggy the view was apt to be cut off by the hood, if the driving lady
(it was always a woman) was tall.

The second sign was when Mrs. Barton--a widow of some sixty odd years,
with some pretensions to breeding, but who had been virtually driven from
several villages where she had located since her widowhood, owing to
inaccuracy of speech, beside which the words of the Village Liar and the
Emporium were quite harmless--contracted inflammatory rheumatism by
chaperoning her daughters' shore party and first wetting her lower half
in clamming and then the upper _via_ a thunder shower. The five "Barton
girls" range from twenty-five to forty, and are so mentally and
physically unattractive and maladroit that it would be impossible to
regard them as in any danger if they went unattended to the uttermost
parts of the earth. On this particular occasion the party consisted of
two dozen people, ranging from twenty to fifty, which it would seem
afforded ample protection.

To be chaperoned was the swell thing, however, and chaperoned the "Barton
girls" would be.

"I cannot compete with multi-millionnaires," said Mrs. Barton, lowering
her voice, when father, on being called in, asked if she had not been
rather rash at her age to go wading in cold water for clams; "but as a
woman of the world I must do all that I can to follow the customs of good
society, and give my daughters protection from even a breath that might
affect their reputations."

The drawling tone was such a good imitation of Mrs. Ponsonby's that
father could barely control his laughter, especially as she continued: "