hisses from
unmannerly boys became more and more frequent.

Then entered upon the stage Professor T. J. O'Reilley amid a storm of
relieved applause. The bosom of his stiff white shirt might have been a
trifle soiled, the diamond glistening therein, palpably false, and the
lapels of his full-dress coat, distressingly shiny, but to John and
Louise, he seemed a very prince of successful entertainers. He bowed
perfunctorily, issued a few words of admonition to the boisterous
element in the audience, and disappeared in the long, black cabinet.

Ensued a series of raps from somewhere in the folds of the cloth, and
subdued cries of "Oh, dear, dear, dear! Judy, Judy, Judy! Where is she?"
The familiar, hooked-nosed figure appeared on the little stage and John
sighed in ecstasy. What mattered if Punch's complexion were sadly in
need of renewal through his many quarrels--he was the same old Punch,
and his audience greeted him as such. Judy followed.

"He'll send her after the baby, now. You just see!" John whispered as
the marionettes danced excitedly back and forth.

"How do you know?" Louise's eyes were a-glisten.

"Haven't you ever ever been to a Punch and Judy show before?" asked John
in surprise.

In one corner of the hall, a row of badly nourished colored children
from the district just north of the "Jefferson Toughs," forgot the
family struggle for three meals a day and rent money in their present
bliss, grins appeared on the faces of the adults in the hall, and the
rest of the audience swayed and shouted and giggled as Punch made away
with first the baby, then friend wife, the policeman, the clown, and the
judge, and hung their bodies over the edge of the stage in time-honored
fashion.

A prolonged groan came from the depths of the cabinet.

"It's the devil," said John, squirming ecstatically on his hard chair.
"There he is, in one corner where Punch can't see him."

Punch lifted a victim from one side of the stage to the other.

"That's one," he counted.

The red-faced, lively little imp returned the corpse to its original
resting place. Some minutes of this comedy followed.

"Twenty-six," squawked the unsuspecting Punch in surprise, while the
audience roared appreciatively. "Did I kill so many? Hello, who are
you?"

"I," came the preternaturally deep voice as Louise quaked at the
make-belief reality of the scene, "am the devil!"

"Now they'll fight," breathed John, watching intently. "It'll be the
bull