clear of his own district mental agitation subsided, but bodily
discomfort increased at every step. The hat and the collar bothered him
most, but every article of attire contributed its share. His uneasiness
was so manifest that Mrs. Jobson, after a little womanly sympathy,
suggested that, besides Sundays, it might be as well to wear them
occasionally of an evening in order to get used to them.

"What, 'ave I got to wear them every Sunday?" demanded the unfortunate,
blankly; "why, I thought they was only for Bank Holidays."

Mrs. Jobson told him not to be silly.

"Straight, I did," said her husband, earnestly. "You've no idea 'ow I'm
suffering; I've got a headache, I'm arf choked, and there's a feeling
about my waist as though I'm being cuddled by somebody I don't like."

Mrs. Jobson said it would soon wear off and, seated in the train that
bore them to the Crystal Palace, put the hat on the rack. Her husband's
attempt to leave it in the train was easily frustrated and his
explanation that he had forgotten all about it received in silence. It
was evident that he would require watching, and under the clear gaze of
his children he seldom had a button undone for more than three minutes at
a time.

The day was hot and he perspired profusely. His collar lost its starch--
a thing to be grateful for--and for the greater part of the day he wore
his tie under the left ear. By the time they had arrived home again he
was in a state of open mutiny.

"Never again," he said, loudly, as he tore the collar off and hung his