ith Aunt Jane.

"What's all this?" she demanded, as she entered the kitchen, followed by
a lady-friend.

"What's all what?" inquired Mr. Porter, who was sitting at dinner with
the family.

"That," said his wife, pointing at the cook-general.

Mr. Porter put down his knife and fork. "Got 'er in to help," he
replied, uneasily.

"Do you hear that?" demanded his wife, turning to her friend, Mrs.
Gorman. "Oh, these masters!"

"Ah!" said her friend, vaguely.

"A strike-breaker!" said Mrs. Porter, rolling her eyes.

"Shame!" said Mrs. Gorman, beginning to understand.

"Coming after my job, and taking the bread out of my mouth," continued
Mrs. Porter, fluently. "Underselling me too, I'll be bound. That's what
comes of not having pickets."

"Unskilled labour," said Mrs. Gorman, tightening her lips and shaking her
head.

"A scab!" cried Mrs. Porter, wildly. "A scab!"

"Put her out," counselled her friend.

"Put her out!" repeated Mrs. Porter, in a terrible voice. "Put her out!
I'll tear her limb from limb! I'll put her in the copper and boil her!"

Her voice was so loud and her appearance so alarming that the unfortunate
Maudie, emitting three piercing shrieks, rose hastily from the table and
looked around for a way of escape. The road to the front-door was
barred, and with a final yelp that set her employer's teeth on edge she
dashed into the yard and went home via the back-fences. Housewives busy
in their kitchens looked up in amazement at the spectacle of a pair of
thin black legs descending one fence, scudding across the yard to the
accompaniment of a terrified moaning, and scrambling madly over the
other. At her own back-door Maudie collapsed on the step, and, to the
intense discomfort and annoyance of her father, had her first fit of
hysterics.

"And the next scab that comes into my house won't get off so easy," said
Mrs. Porter to her husband. "D'you understand?"

"If you 'ad some husbands--" began Mr. Porter, trembling with rage.

"Yes, I know," said his wife, nodding. "Don't cry, Jemmy," she added,
taking the youngest on her knee. "Mother's only having a little game.
She and dad are both on strike for more pay and less work."

Mr. Porter got up, and without going through the formality of saying
good-bye to the hard-featured Mrs. Gorman, put on his cap and went out.
Over a couple of half-pints taken as a sedative, he realized the growing
seriousness of his position.

In a dull resign