through the exhilarating and delicious fog the Pan-Antis waved
their defiant banners unscathed. The progress of the parade,
however, was halted by the behavior of the Bishop's horse, for
which no mask had been provided. The noble animal, under this
sudden and extraordinary stimulus, was almost human in its
actions. At first it stood, whinneying sharply, and pawing the air
with one forefoot--as though feeling for the brass rail, as one of
Bleak's companions said. It raised its head proudly, with open
mouth and expanded nostrils. Then, dashing off across the broad
street, it seemed eager to climb a lamp-post, and only the fierce
restraint of the Bishop held it in. One of the chuffs (perhaps
only lukewarm in loyalty), ran up and offered to give his mask to
the horse, but was sternly motioned back to the ranks by the
infuriated leader, who was wildly wrestling to gain control of the
exuberant animal. At last the horse solved the problem by lying
down in the street, on top of the Bishop, and going to sleep. An
ambulance, marked Federal Home for Inebriates, Cana, N.J., dashed
up with shrilling gong. This had been arranged by Quimbleton, who
had wired a requisition for an ambulance to remove one intoxicated
bishop. As the Bishop was quite in command of his faculties, the
horse, after some delay, was hoisted into the ambulance instead.
The Bishop was given a dusting, and the parade proceeded. The
self-control of the police alone averted prolonged and frightful
disorder, for when the conduct of the horse was observed thousands
of spectators fought desperately to get through the ropes and out
into the fumes that still lingered in wisps and whorls of green
vapor. Others tore off their coats and attempted to bag a few
cubic inches of the gas in these garments. But the police, with a
devotion to duty that was beyond praise, kept the mob in check and
themselves bore the brunt of the lingering acid. Only one man, who