weak, unguarded outposts,
till the whole tottering fabric should go down with a crash to rise no
more.

Mrs. Pimble and her coadjutors commenced rolling the ball of reform
with increased velocity. Mass meetings, of the most boisterous and
denunciatory character, were held through the community. It appeared a
war was commenced which threatened to cease only with the extermination
of the masculine portion of Wimbledon. Mr. Salsify Mumbles, though as
brave as most men in common encounters, was afraid to step outside his
door lest his unmentionables should be seized by some of the new-fledged
manhood, and a petticoat tied to his coat-tail. Even the green damask
curtains and cushion-coverings that adorned the high, old-fashioned
pulpit of the village church, were voted as ostentatious and calculated
to foster luxurious idleness in the pastor; and a committee appointed
and authorized to tear them from their places and sew them into bloomers
for the comfort of the lady-lecturers, whose callings exposed them to
the most inclement weathers. And so green-legged Philanthropy stalked
through Wimbledon; but it never laid an armful of wood on the sill of
Dilly Danforth's humble abode, though rough blew the storms of the
inclement winter; nor did it put a cap over Master Willie's curly locks,
or sew a charitable patch on the elbow of his ragged jacket. Because it
was philanthropy in the wider sense, which sought to relieve in the sum
of thousands--not of units.

Mrs. Dr. Simcoe figured not so largely among the sisterhood of reformers
as she would have done had she not been encumbered by "Simcoe's
children," who were two of the most ill-natured, uncompromising
offshoots of barbarism that ever tormented a meek, unoffending woman.

Mrs. Lawson thought some reformer should arise to fill the place so
nearly vacated by the persecuted lady, and fixed upon Mrs. Edson as her
successor.

So, on a day, Mrs. Lawson, in green damask bloomers, black overcoat, and
deer-skin gloves, appeared on the steps of Mrs. Edson's mansion, and
gave a herculean pull at the door-bell which brought the master of the
house instanter, with staring eyes, to answer the pealing summons. "I
believe Mrs. Edson resides here," said the lady-reformist, looking
loftily upon the man, who was evidently very much struck with his
visitor's personal equipments.

"She does," answered he, at length.

"I have come to hold a conversation with her," said Mrs. Lawson,
stamping