as to his behaviour in the unlikely
event of further attacks upon his noble person.

He tried to remember the suggestions in the harassing days that followed;
baiting Joe Billing becoming popular as a pastime from which no evil
results need be feared. It was creditable to his fellow-citizens that
most of them refrained from violence with a man who declined to hit back,
but as a butt his success was assured. The night when a gawky lad of
eighteen drank up his beer, and then invited him to step outside if he
didn't like it, dwelt long in his memory. And Elk Street thrilled one
evening at the sight of their erstwhile champion flying up the road hotly
pursued by a foeman half his size. His explanation to his indignant wife
that, having turned the other cheek the night before, he was in no mood
for further punishment, was received in chilling silence.

"They'll soon get tired of it," he said, hopefully; "and I ain't going to
be beat by a lot of chaps wot I could lick with one 'and tied behind me.
They'll get to understand in time; Mr. Purnip says so. It's a pity that
you don't try and do some good yourself."

Mrs. Billing received the suggestion with a sniff; but the seed was sown.
She thought the matter over in private, and came to the conclusion that,
if her husband wished her to participate in good works, it was not for
her to deny him. Hitherto her efforts in that direction had been
promptly suppressed; Mr. Billing's idea being that if a woman looked
after her home and her husband properly there should be neither time
nor desire for anything else. His surprise on arriving home to tea on
Saturday afternoon, and finding a couple of hard-working neighbours
devouring his substance, almost deprived him of speech.

"Poor things," said his wife, after the guests had gone; "they did enjoy
it. It's cheered 'em up wonderful. You and Mr. Purnip are quite right.
I can see that now. You can tell him that it was you what put it into my
'art."

"Me? Why, I never dreamt o' such a thing," declared the surprised Mr.
Billing. "And there's other ways of doing good besides asking a pack of
old women in to tea."

"I know there is," said his wife. "All in good time," she added, with a
far-away look in her eyes.

Mr. Billing cleared his throat, but nothing came of it. He cleared it
again.

"I couldn't let you do all the good," said his wife, hastily. "It
wouldn't be fair. I must help."

Mr. Billing lit his pipe noisi