d lost seven
pigeons ready to go into a pie, and all in the space of ten days. I am
sure that horrid Burt stole 'em."

Bessie still laughed: "Is your affection so material? Do you love your
pigeons so dearly that you eat them up?" said she.

"What else should I keep them for? I should be overrun with pigeons but
for putting them in pies; they make the garden very untidy as it is. I
have given up keeping ducks, but I have a tame gull for the slugs. Who
is this at the gate? Oh! Miss Wort with her inexhaustible physic-bottle.
Everybody seems to have heard that you are here, Bessie."

Miss Wort came in breathless, and paused, and greeted Bessie in a way
that showed her wits were otherwise engaged. "It is the income-tax," she
explained parenthetically, with an appealing look round at the company.
"I have been so put out this morning; I never had my word doubted
before. Jimpson is the collector this year--"

"Jimpson!" broke out Miss Buff impetuously. "I should like to know who
they will appoint next to pry into our private affairs? As long as old
Dobbs collected all the rates and taxes they were just tolerable, but
since they have begun to appoint new men every year my patience is
exhausted. Talk of giving us votes at elections: I would rather vote at
twenty elections than have Tom, Dick, and Harry licensed to inquire into
my money-matters. Since Dobbs was removed we have had for assessors of
income-tax both the butchers, the baker, the brewer, the miller, the
little tailor, the milk-man; and now Jimpson at the toy-shop, of all
good people! There will soon be nobody left but the sweep."

"The sweep is a very civil man, but Jimpson is impertinent. I told him
the sum was not correct, and he answered me: 'The government of the
country must have money to carry on; I have nothing to do with the sum
except to collect it. If you don't like it, ma'am, you've got to appeal
and go before the commissioners.' He may puzzle me with his figures, but
he will never convince me I have the income, for I have not. And he said
if I supposed he was fond of the job I was mistaken."

"Can Mr. Carnegie help you, Miss Wort? Men manage these things so much
more easily than we do," said Mrs. Carnegie kindly.

"Thank you, but I paid the demand as the least trouble and to have done
with it."

"Of course; I would pay half I am possessed of rather rather than go
before the commissioners," said Miss Buff. "Old Phipps is one of them;
and here he is