"They came to Foxden about a month ago. I had then organized the
Temperance movement among the school-children, and devised a scheme for
furnishing employment to drunkards who would make an effort to reform.
But these more worthy guides of humanity soon reduced matters to first
principles. They showed that all Moderate Drinkers and the Church which
sustains them must be exposed and denounced. They have done a great
work, as you see. Only a few people in Foxden have dared to stand
against them. Deacon Greenlaw, one of the most obstinate cases, has just
yielded to their persevering treatment."

The rain at length stopped.

Many persons who had appeared in the procession straggled in, looking
rather sheepish. The singing, indeed, had failed; but the supper was in
prospect.

Stellato was at high-pressure, and ready to lead his adventurous
Gladiators into the very camp of the enemy. Mrs. Romulus, wholly above
the prejudices of the toilet, would stay and bear him company.

Miss Hurribattle, not having cast out that "clothes-devil" against which
the old theologians used to warn her sex, wished to return to her
boarding-house. It being by this time dark, or nearly so, I offered to
see her home. Mr. Clifton volunteered to accompany us.

"The Deacon's cider-mill is smoking after all this drenching!" exclaimed
Mrs. Widesworth.

"The torches of the Bacchantes, when flung into the Tiber, were said