e of the
church to photograph a Jacobean tablet. Six-year-old Dorrie remained
sitting on a hassock in the pew. She had a plan in her crafty young
mind. She wanted to examine the helmet, and she knew Winona would be
sure to say "Paws off!" or something equally offensive and
objectionable. She waited till her sister was safely out of the way,
then she stole from her cover, grabbed the helmet, and returned to the
shelter of the pew. It made quite an interesting and fascinating
plaything in her estimation. She amused herself with it for a long time,
until she heard Winona's voice proclaiming that if they didn't trot home
quickly they'd be late for dinner, whereupon she popped it under the
seat, and joined the others. Winona, of course, ought to have replaced
it on its peg on the wall, but her memory was far from perfect, and she
completely forgot all about it.

The whole thing seemed a most trivial incident, but it had an amazing
sequel. On Saturday afternoons Mrs. Fisher, the caretaker, always came
to sweep and tidy up the church in preparation for Sunday. She was a
little, thin, sharp-nosed, impulsive woman, and just at present her
nerves were rather in a shaky condition for fear of Zeppelins. She lived
in perpetual terror of bombs or German spies, and always slept with half
her clothing on, in case she should be forced to get up in a hurry and
flee for her life. On this particular Saturday afternoon Mrs. Fisher, as
was her wont, washed the pavement of the nave, and then took her broom
and her duster into the side chapel. Nobody sat there as a rule, so she
did not give it very much attention. She flicked the duster over the
monument, hastily swept the floor in front, and was just about to turn
away, having done her duty, when she caught sight of something under
the seat of a pew. She put her hand to her heart, and turned as white as
her own best linen apron. She divined instantly what it must be. With
great presence of mind she stole softly away on tip-toe. Once outside
the church she indulged in a comfortable little burst of hysterics. Then
she felt better, and went to tell the parish clerk. Before evening the
news had spread all over the village.

"It was brought in a motor car," Mrs. Pikes at the shop informed her
customers, "and Wilson's little boy says he heard them talking German."

"There was a foreign-looking sort of a chap rode past our house on a
bicycle the other day," volunteered the blacksmith's assistant.