And so by the early days of June the work began ...

Came November 11th ...

November 20th it was decided that the new works in Glenwhinnie, N.B., would not be necessary after all.

What was to be done?

A special committee decided that the buildings should be demolished, and the contract was offered to the well-known firm of McClusky, McCleery & McClumpha, of Auchtermuchty.

They accepted.  With thanks.

And so it came about that a second army of occupation descended upon Glenwhinnie, N.B.  Fresh bodies of gentlemen in corduroys and armed with a rather different set of powerful implements arrived, and smoked clay pipes.  Another light railway was rapidly constructed, and Mr. McCleery went in person to open the proceedings.  In a speech full of fervour ...

And so by early January the work commenced.

By this time Messrs. McTavish and Co. had got the buildings well in hand.  What was to be done?  Leave their work uncompleted?  Never!  As Mr. McThom pointed out with considerable emotion to his partners, a contract was a contract all the world over.

If it ever came to be said that any firm he was interested in had failed to fulfil a contract, he for one (Angus McThom) would never hold up his head.  The contract must be completed.  It was a sacred duty.  Besides—­a minor point—­what about payment?

So Mr. McTurk was despatched to Glenwhinnie, N.B., where in a speech of great power he pointed out the path of duty.

Amid scenes of enthusiasm the work went on apace.

And at the other end the well-known firm of McClusky, McCleery &
McClumpha tore down the buildings with equal enthusiasm.

And that is the state of affairs just now in Glenwhinnie, N.B.  What will happen when—­as they are bound to do—­the wreckers overtake the builders is a matter for speculation.  Mr. McTurk may make another speech.  Possibly Mr. McCleery may also exhort.  There is promise of a delicate situation.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “AND ARE YOU A GOOD NEEDLEWOMAN AND RENOVATOR, AND WILLING TO BE USEFUL?”

“MADAM, I AM AFRAID THERE IS SOME MISUNDERSTANDING.  I AM A LADY’S MAID—­NOT A USEFUL MAID.”]

* * * * *

THE STOICS OF THE SERPENTINE.

    I, for my part, admire
    The snug domestic fire,
  The comfortable hearth, the glowing coals,
    Nor in the least aspire
  To emulate those strong heroic souls
    Who get up while it’s dark
    And haste to chill ablutions in Hyde Park.

    It can’t be very nice
    To break the solid ice
  And, like a walrus, plunge into the deep;
    Then jump out in a trice,
  Dissevering the icicles as you leap,
    Even though the after-glow
    Of virtue melts the circumjacent snow.

    And we of milder mould,
    And we who’re growing old,
  Wish they would wash, like other folk, elsewhere;
    It makes us feel quite cold
  To think of them refrigerating there;
    We shiver in our beds;
    Our pitying molars chatter in our heads.