“Is this straight stuff?” asked Bleak tremulously.

“My right hand upon it,” cried Quimbleton, tearing off his beard in his earnestness.

“Then good-night!” said Bleak.  “I must get back to the office.”

CHAPTER III

INCIDENT OF THE GOOSEBERRY BOMBS

The day of the great parade dawned dazzling and clear, with every promise of heat.  From the first blue of morning, while the streets were still cool and marble front steps moist from housemaids’ sluicings, crowds of Bishop Chuff’s marchers came pouring into the city.  At the prearranged mobilization points, where bands were stationed to keep the throngs amused until the immense procession could be ranged in line, the press was terrific.  Every trolley, every suburban train, every jitney, was crammed with the pan-antis, clad in white, carrying the buttons, ribbons and banners that had been prepared for this great occasion.  Down with gooseberries, the new menace! was the terrifying legend printed on these emblems.

The Boulevard had been roped off by the police by eight o’clock, and the pavements were swarming with citizens, many of whom had camped there all night in order to witness this tremendous spectacle.  As the sun surged pitilessly higher, the temperature became painful.  The asphalt streets grew soft under the twingeing feet of the Pan-Antis, and waves of heat radiation shimmered along the vista of the magnificent highway.  To keep themselves cheerful the legions of Chuff sang their new Gooseberry Anthem, written by Miss Theodolinda Chuff (the Bishop’s daughter) to the air of “Marching Through Georgia.”  The rousing strains rose in unison from thousands of earnest throats.  The majesty of the song cannot be comprehended unless the reader will permit himself to hum to the familiar tune:—­

    Root up every gooseberry where Satan winks
          his eye—­
    We will make the sinful earth a credit by and
          by: 
    Europe may be stubborn, but we’ll legislate her
          dry,
    And then we’ll tackle the planets.

Chorus: 

Hurrah!  Hurrah!  We’re anti-everything—­
Hurrah!  Hurrah!  An end to joy we sing: 
Come let’s make life doleful and then
death will lose its sting,
Happiness is only a habit!

Come then, all ye citizens, and join our stern
Verein: 
We’re the ones that put the crimp in whiskey,
beer and wine;
Booze is gone and soon we’ll make tobacco fall
in line,
And then we’ll tackle the planets.

Chorus: 

Hurrah!  Hurrah!  We’re anti-everything—­
Hurrah!  Hurrah!  An end to joy we sing: 
Come let’s make life doleful and then
death will lose its sting,
Happiness is only a habit!

We’ll abolish every fruit attempting to ferment—­
We will alter Nature’s laws and teach her to
repent: 
Let the fatal gooseberry proceed where cocktails
went,
And then we’ll tackle the planets.