himself to a standstill, hot and
breathless.

The rank and file came forward to testify. The men stammered in
confusion, terrified by the noise they made, shrinking from the crowd
as a timid bather shrinks from icy water, driven to this performance by
an unseen power. But the women were shrill and self-possessed,
scolding their hearers, demanding an instant surrender to the Army,
whose advantages they pointed out with a glib fluency as if it were a
Benefit Lodge.

Then the men knelt in the dust, the women covered their faces, and the
Captain began to pray. His voice rose in shrill entreaty, mixed with
the cries of the shopmen and the noise of the streets.

The spectators, familiar with the sight, listened in nonchalance,
stopping to watch the group for a minute as they would look into a shop
window. The exhibition stirred no religious feeling in them, for their
minds, with the tenacity of childhood, associated religion with
churches, parsons and hymn-books.

The Push grew restless, divided between a desire to upset the meeting
and fear of the police.

"Well I used ter think a funeral was slow," remarked Chook, losing
patience, and he stepped behind Jonah.

"'Ere, look out!" yelled Jonah the next minute, as, with a push from
Chook, he collided violently with one of the soldiers and fell into the
centre of the ring.

"'E shoved me," cried Jonah as he got up, pointing with an injured air
to the grinning Chook. "I'll gi' yer a kick in the neck, if yer git me
lumbered," he added, scowling with counterfeit anger at his mate.

"If yer was my son," said the Captain severely--"If yer was my son..."
he repeated, halting for words.

"I should 'ave trotters as big as yer own," cried Jonah, pointing to
the man's feet, cased in enormous bluchers. The Push yelled with
derision as Jonah edged out of the circle ready for flight.

The Captain flushed angrily, and then his face cleared.

"Well, friends," he cried, "God gave me big feet to tramp the streets
and preach the Gospel to my fellow men." And the interrupted service
went on.

Jonah, who carried the brains of the Push, devised a fresh attack,
involving Chook, a broken bottle, and the big drum.

"It'll cut it like butter," he was explaining, when suddenly there was
a cry of "Nit! 'Ere's a cop!" and the Push bolted like rabbits.

Jonah and Chook alone stood their ground, with reluctant valour, for
the policeman was already beside them. Chook shoved the broke