have the majority."

Then was seen the unprecedented sight of a party agent challenging the
votes on his own side with a captiousness that his opponents would have
hesitated to display. One or two votes that would have certainly passed
muster under ordinary circumstances were disallowed, but even so Jutterly
was six ahead with only thirty more to be counted.

To the watchers by the stye the moments seemed intolerable. As a last
resort some one had been sent for a gun with which to shoot the sow,
though Hyacinth would probably draw the bolt the moment such a weapon was
brought into the yard. Nearly all the men were away from their homes,
however, on election night, and the messenger had evidently gone far
afield in his search. It must be a matter of minutes now to the
declaration of the poll.

A sudden roar of shouting and cheering was heard from the direction of
the Town Hall. Hyacinth's father clutched a pitchfork and prepared to
dash into the stye in the forlorn hope of being in time.

A shot rang out in the evening air. Hyacinth stooped down from his perch
and put his finger on the bolt. The sow pressed furiously against the
door.

"Bang," came another shot.

Hyacinth wriggled back, and sent a short ladder down through the window
of the inner stye.

"Now you can come up, you unclean little blighters," he sang out; "my
daddy's got in, not yours. Hurry up, I can't keep the sow waiting much
longer. And don't you jolly well come butting into any election again
where I'm on the job."

In the reaction that set in after the deliverance furious recrimination
were indulged in by the lately opposed candidates, their women folk,
agents, and party helpers. A recount was demanded, but failed to
establish the fact that the Colonial Secretary had obtained a majority.
Altogether the election left a legacy of soreness behind it, apart from
any that was experienced by Hyacinth in person.

"It is the last time I shall let him go to an election," exclaimed his
mother.

"There I think you are going to extremes," said Mrs. Panstreppon; "if
there should be a general election in Mexico I think you might safely let
him go there, but I doubt whether our English politics are suited to the
rough and tumble of an angel-child."

THE IMAGE OF THE LOST SOLE

There were a number of carved stone figures placed at intervals along the
parapets of the old Cathedral; some of them represented angels, others
kings and bish