weary of prohibiting things."

Quimbleton made a motion to his companions as though to leave the
room. The Bishop leaped to his feet, with curiously mingled anger
and eagerness on his face. "Stop!" he cried. "You can't mean
laughter? I abolished that some weeks ago. I don't believe there
is anything left--"

"How quaint it is," said Quimbleton (as though talking to
himself), "that it is always the plainly obvious that eludes! But,
of course, the reason you have not abolished this matter before is
that to do so would wholly alter and undermine the habits of the
race. Nothing would be the same as before. I daresay a good deal
of misery would be caused in the long run, who knows? Ah well, it
seems a pity you forgot it--"

"Hell's bells!" roared the Bishop, bringing his fist down on the
desk with fury--"What is it? Let me get at it!"

"I should be sorry to marry into a profane family," was
Quimbleton's reply, moving toward the door.

The Bishop chewed the end of his beard with a crunching sound.
This unpleasant gesture caused a tingle to pass along Bleak's
sensitive spine, already strained to painful nervous tension. The
office of the Perpetual Souse hung in the balance.

"Look here," said Bishop Chuff, "If I let you have your way about
the--the Permanent Exhibit, will you tell me what it is I have
forgotten to prohibit?"