umbrella down in the road, fly up the High Street at the rate of ten
miles an hour, rush across it at the imminent risk of her life, dart
down it again on the other side, rush sideways, like an excited crab,
into a grocer's shop, run three times round the shop, upsetting the
whole stock-in-trade, come out of the shop backward and knock down a
postman, dash into the roadway and spin round twice, hover for a
moment, undecided, on the curb, and then away up the hill again, as if
she had only just started, all the while screaming out at the top of
her voice for somebody to stop her!

Of course, everybody thought she was mad. The people flew before her
like chaff before the wind. In less than five seconds the High Street
was a desert. The townsfolk scampered into their shops and houses and
barricaded the doors. Brave men dashed out and caught up little
children and bore them to places of safety amid cheers. Carts and
carriages were abandoned, while the drivers climbed up lamp-posts!

What would have happened had the affair gone on much longer--whether
my aunt would have been shot, or the fire-engine brought into
requisition against her--it is impossible, having regard to the
terrified state of the crowd, to say. Fortunately for her, she became
exhausted. With one despairing shriek she gave way, and sat down on
the dog; and peace reigned once again in that sweet rural town.

THE END.