ig, so nearly an outcast through her own girlish folly,
became possessor of a name honoured and even adored throughout England.

The first few years of her life at Court were more or less
uneventful--she saw little of her husband and lots of the King. He and
she used to wander along the river side, simply loaded with different
dogs. Whenever there were theatricals given, Sheepmeadow tells us, Sarah
invariably appeared as Diana or Minerva, preferring these parts on
account of their suitability to her youth and figure. All these events
took place long after Punter's portrait, though several others were done
latterly. Her wit and gaiety were of course world-famed, and her
political treatises are preserved to this day.[13]

On one dramatic occasion her brilliant political knowledge and presence
of mind were the means of saving England from turmoil or worse. Hearing
that the people were hungry and restless, Sarah rushed to the King.
"What's to do?" she cried breathlessly.

"God knows," replied Charles, adding "Lud!" as an afterthought. Then he
went on fondling the long silky ears of one of his lap-dogs with which
the room was strewn.

Heartbroken, Sarah left the room and rushed out of Whitehall as fast as
her legs could carry her, heeding not the jeers of the crowd. She made
for Tower Hill, from the summit of which she delivered her world-famous
political speech, ending with the stirring words, "Sift your corn
through sieves!"

How that speech sends a throb to one's heart--the defiance of it, the
subtlety of it, and yet the intense womanliness of it! The people
cheered her back to the palace. She went straight to the King's room--he
was feeding his dogs.

"I've saved England!" cried Sarah exultantly.

"Lud!" replied the King, and handed her some cat's-meat. No wonder women
loved him!

Incidents like these went to make up the multi-coloured mosaic of Sarah,
Lady Tunnell-Penge's life. Her children were many--Arthur, later on Lord
Crumpingfax; Muriel, later the Duchess of Dripp; and various others.

She died at the age of seventy-nine,[14] thus outliving her Royal
paramour. A beautiful life, a noble life, a gentle life--yet was there
something missing? Sometimes I gaze at her portrait and wonder.

JABEZ PUFFWATER

[Illustration: JABEZ PUFFWATER, OF OGGSVILLE, KENTUCKY]

Jabez Puffwater might have been so much physically, mentally and
publicly and has been so little any way that a tattered moral must hang