ight home from school. There's work to be done."

He did some of it himself after the children had gone, and finished up
the afternoon with a little shopping, in the course of which he twice
changed his grocer and was threatened with an action for slander by his
fishmonger. He returned home with his clothes bulging, although a couple
of eggs in the left-hand coat-pocket had done their best to accommodate
themselves to his figure.

He went to bed at eleven o'clock, and at a quarter past, clad all too
lightly for the job, sped rapidly downstairs to admit his wife.

"Some 'usbands would 'ave let you sleep on the doorstep all night," he
said, crisply.

"I know they would," returned his wife, cheerfully. "That's why I
married you. I remember the first time I let you come 'ome with me,
mother ses: 'There ain't much of 'im, Susan,' she ses; 'still, arf a loaf
is better than--'"

The bedroom-door slammed behind the indignant Mr. Porter, and the three
lumps and a depression which had once been a bed received his quivering
frame again. With the sheet obstinately drawn over his head he turned a
deaf ear to his wife's panegyrics on striking and her heartfelt tribute
to the end of a perfect day. Even when standing on the cold floor while
she remade the bed he maintained an attitude of unbending dignity, only
relaxing when she smote him light-heartedly with the bolster. In a few
ill-chosen words he expressed his opinion of her mother and her
deplorable methods of bringing up her daughters.

He rose early next morning, and, after getting his own breakfast, put on
his cap and went out, closing the street-door with a bang that awoke the
entire family and caused the somnolent Mrs. Porter to open one eye for
the purpose of winking with it. Slowly, as became a man of leisure, he
strolled down to the works, and, moving from knot to knot of his
colleagues, discussed the prospects of victory. Later on, with a little
natural diffidence, he drew Mr. Bert Robinson apart and asked his advice
upon a situation which was growing more and more difficult.

"I've got my hands pretty full as it is, you know," said Mr. Robinson,
hastily.

"I know you 'ave, Bert," murmured the other. "But, you see, she told me
last night she's going to try and get some of the other chaps' wives to
join 'er, so I thought I ought to tell you."

Mr. Robinson started. "Have you tried giving her a hiding?" he inquired.

Mr. Porter shook his head. "I dare