d stiffly confronting six or
seven assorted chairs, two of which at least had been promoted from a
lower sphere.

"It's for the meeting," said Muriel, peeping in.

"Meeting?" repeated her father, in a dazed voice.

"Strike-meetings," was the reply. "Mrs. Gorman and some other ladies are
coming at four o'clock. Didn't mother tell you?"

Mr. Porter, staring helplessly at the row of chairs, shook his head.

"Mrs. Evans is coming," continued Muriel, in a hushed voice--"the lady
what punched Mr. Brown because he kept Bobbie Evans in one day. He ain't
been kept in since. I wish you----"

She stopped suddenly, and, held by her father's gaze, backed slowly out
of the room. Mr. Porter, left with the chairs, stood regarding them
thoughtfully. Their emptiness made an appeal that no right-minded man
could ignore. He put his hand over his mouth and his eyes watered.

He spent the next half-hour in issuing invitations, and at half-past
three every chair was filled by fellow-strikers. Three cans of beer,
clay pipes, and a paper of shag stood on the table. Mr. Benjamin Todd,
an obese, fresh-coloured gentleman of middle age, took the easy-chair.
Glasses and teacups were filled.

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Todd, lighting his pipe, "afore we get on to the
business of this meeting I want to remind you that there is another
meeting, of ladies, at four o'clock; so we've got to hurry up. O'
course, if it should happen that we ain't finished----"

"Go on, Bennie!" said a delighted admirer. "I see a female 'ead peeping
in at the winder already," said a voice.

"Let 'em peep," said Mr. Todd, benignly. "Then p'r'aps they'll be able
to see how to run a meeting."

"There's two more 'eads," said the other. "Oh, Lord, I know I sha'n't be
able to keep a straight face!"

"H'sh!" commanded Mr. Todd, sternly, as the street-door was heard to
open. "Be'ave yourself. As I was saying, the thing we've got to
consider about this strike----"

The door opened, and six ladies, headed by Mrs. Porter, entered the room
in single file and ranged themselves silently along the wall.

"Strike," proceeded Mr. Todd, who found himself gazing uneasily into the
eyes of Mrs. Gorman----"strike--er--strike----"

"He said that before," said a stout lady, in a loud whisper; "I'm sure he
did."

"Is," continued Mr. Todd, "that we have got to keep this--this--er--"

"Strike," prompted the same voice.

Mr. Todd paused, and, wiping his mouth with a re