nt of which
was a huge, hand-painted announcement, "Matinee at 2, this afternoon.
Performance to-night 7-45. New Topical song entitled "The Rapture," on
the great event of the week. Living Pictures at both performances:
"The Flight of the Saints."

Ralph, in his amaze, had paused to read the full contents of the
announcement. He shuddered as he took in the full import of the
blasphemy. Surveying the crowd that stood around the notice, he was
struck by the composition of the little mob. It was anything but a
low-class crowd. Many of them were evidently of the upper middle
class, well-dressed, and often intellectual-looking people.

He was turning to leave the spot, when a horsey-looking young fellow
close to him, in a voice loud enough to be heard by the whole crowd--he
evidently meant that it should--cried:

"Well, if it's true that all the long-faced puritans have been carted
off, vamoused, kidnapped, "Rapturized," as they call it, and that now
there's to be no Theatre Censor, and every one can do as they like,
well then, good riddance to the kill-joys, I say."

"And so say all of us," sang a voice, almost everyone present joining
in the song.

When twenty yards off Ralph could hear the blasphemy ringing out "The
Devil's a jolly good fellow, and so say all of us!"

"What will London be like in a month's time!" he mused.

He moved on quickly, but even as he went the thought thrust itself upon
him, that half London, for some reason or the other, was abroad in the
streets unusually early. His own objective was a great Nonconformist
church, where one of London's most popular and remarkable preachers had
ministered. He had been one of the comparatively few whose ministry
had been characterized by a close adherence to the Word of God, and an
occasional solemn word of expository warning and exhortation _anent_
the "Coming of the Lord."

Ralph was within a stone's throw of the great building when the
squeaking tones of Punchinello, reached his ears, while a deep roar of
many laughing voices accompanied the squeakings. A moment more and he
was abreast of a crowd of many hundreds of people gathered around the
Punch and Judy show.

Sick in soul at all that told of open blasphemy everywhere around him,
he hurried on, not so much as casting an eye at the show, though it was
impossible for him to miss the question and answer that rang out from
the show.

"Now, now Mr. Punch, where's your poor wife? Have you do