remember that you are here only on sufferance. I shall be
pitiless. I shall scourge the evil principle you represent from
the face of the earth."

"We do not fear your threats," said Quimbleton stoutly. "We are
not alarmed by your frown."

He was, greatly, but he was sparring for time to put his thoughts
in order. He started to say "Uneasy lies the head that wears a
frown," which was an aphorism of his own he thought highly of, but
Theodolinda checked him. She knew that her father detested puns.
It was perhaps his only virtue.

"Bishop Chuff," said Quimbleton, "perhaps you are not aware of the
strength and tenacity of the sentiment we represent. I assure you
that if you underestimate the power of the millions of thirsty
mouths that speak through us, you will rue the consequences.
Trouble is brewing--"

"Neither trouble, nor anything else, is brewing nowadays," said
the terrible Bishop.

Theodolinda saw that Quimbleton was losing ground by his
incorrigible habit of talking before he said anything. She broke
in impetuously, and explained the plan for the Perpetual Souse.
Her father listened to the end with his cold, forbidding gaze,
while the sensitive needle of the recording instrument on the
mantel danced and wagged in agitation.

"So this is your scheme, is it?" he said. "Abandoned offspring,