by the gladiators of old.

Mr. Opp, limited as to space, and aware of a critical audience, rose to
the occasion, and with jaw set and the light of conquest in his eye
entered the fray. He pushed forward, and pulled back, he throttled, he
went through facial and bodily contortions. The match was conducted in
"the catch hold, first down to lose style," and the honors seemed
equally divided. At last, by the adroit administration of a left-leg
stroke, Mr. Opp succeeded in throwing his adversary, but unfortunately
he threw it too far.

The victory, though brilliant, was not without its casualties. The
goose, in its post-mortem flight, took its revenge, and the overturned
cranberries sent a crimson stain across the white cloth, giving a
sanguinary aspect to the scene.

When order was restored and Mr. Opp had once more taken his seat, the
little lady in the blue dress, who had remained quiet during the recent
conflict, suddenly raised her voice in joyous song.

"Now, Kippy," warned Mr. Opp, putting a restraining hand on her arm, and
looking at her appealingly. The little lady shrank back in her chair and
her eyes filled as she clasped his hand tightly in both of hers.

"As I was remarking," Mr. Opp went steadily on, trying to behave as if
it were quite natural for him to eat with his left hand, "the real
value of the underground product in this country has been but fairly
made apparent, and now that you capitalists are coming in to take a
hold, there's no way of forming a idea of the ultimate result."

Hinton, upon whom no phase of the situation had been lost, came
valiantly to Mr. Opp's rescue. He roused himself to follow his host's
lead in the conversation; he was apparently oblivious to the many
irregularities of the dinner. In fact, it was one of the rare occasions
upon which Hinton took the trouble to exert himself. Something in the
dreary old room, with its brave attempt at cheer, in the half-witted
little lady who was making such superhuman efforts to be good, and above
all in the bombastic, egotistical, ignorant editor who was trying to
keep up appearances against such heavy odds, touched the best and
deepest that was in Hinton, and lifted him out of himself. Gradually he
began to take the lead in the conversation. With great tact he relieved
Mr. Opp of the necessity of entertaining, and gave him a chance to eat
his dinner. He told stories so simple that even Miss Kippy loosened her
hold on her brother's hand to