"What about appealing to her better nature?" inquired the other.

"She ain't got one," said the unfortunate. "Well, I'm sorry for you,"
said Mr. Robinson, "but I'm busy. I've got to see a Labour-leader this
afternoon, and two reporters, and this evening there's the meeting. Try
kindness first, and if that don't do, lock her up in her bedroom and keep
her on bread and water."

He moved off to confer with his supporters, and Mr. Porter, after
wandering aimlessly about for an hour or two, returned home at mid-day
with a faint hope that his wife might have seen the error of her ways and
provided dinner for him. He found the house empty and the beds unmade.
The remains of breakfast stood on the kitchen-table, and a puddle of cold
tea decorated the floor. The arrival of the children from school, hungry
and eager, completed his discomfiture.

For several days he wrestled grimly with the situation, while Mrs.
Porter, who had planned out her week into four days of charing, two of
amusement, and Sunday in bed, looked on with smiling approval. She even
offered to give him a little instruction--verbal--in scrubbing the
kitchen-floor.

Mr. Porter, who was on his knees at the time, rose slowly to his full
height, and, with a superb gesture, emptied the bucket, which also
contained a scrubbing-brush and lump of soap, into the back-yard. Then
he set off down the street in quest of a staff.

He found it in the person of Maudie Stevens, aged fourteen, who lived a
few doors lower down. Fresh from school the week before, she cheerfully