ashed if I can bring in the bundle!"

There was no telling how conduct like this might have been received by
the Yellow-and-Blues if Mr. Barrett had not spoken. "You mean everything
when you say "Union," and you're quite right not to be tautological. You
can't give such a blow with your fingers as you can with your fists, can
you?"

Up went a score of fists. "We've the fists: we've the fists," was
shouted.

Cornelia, smiling on Mr. Barrett, asked him why he had confused the poor
people with the long word "tautological."

"I threw it as a bone," said he. "I think you will observe that they are
already quieter. They are reflecting on what it signifies, and will
by-and-by quarrel as to the spelling of it. At any rate it occupies
them."

Cornelia laughed inwardly, and marked with pain that his own humour gave
him no merriment.

At the subsiding of the echoes that coupled Squire Pole and the Junction
Club together, Squire Pole replied. He wished them well. He was glad to
see them, and sorry he had not ale enough on the premises to regale every
man of them. Clubs were great institutions. One fist was stronger than a
thousand fingers--"as my friend here said just now." Hereat the eyelids
of Cornelia shed another queenly smile on the happy originator of the
remark.

Squire Pole then descended to business. He named the amount of his
donation. At this practical sign of his support, heaven heard the
gratitude of the good fellows. The drum awoke from its torpor, and
summoned its brethren of the band to give their various versions of the
National Anthem.

"Can't they be stopped?" Emilia murmured, clenching her little hands.

The patriotic melody, delivered in sturdy democratic fashion, had to be
endured. It died hard, but did come to an end, piecemeal. Tom Breeks then
retired from the front, and became a unit once more. There were
flourishes that indicated a termination of the proceedings, when another
fellow was propelled in advance, and he, shuffling and ducking his head,
to the cries of "Out wi' it, Jim!" and, "Where's your stomach?" came
still further forward, and showed a most obsequious grin.

"Why, it's Jim!" exclaimed Emilia, on whom Jim's eyes were fastened.
Stepping nearer, she said, "Do you want to speak to me?"

Jim had this to say: which, divested of his petition for pardon on the
strength of his perfect knowledge that he took a liberty, was, that the
young lady had promised, while staying at Wilson's farm