Likewise, Sir Charles Brimpton, in jumping out of the top window of his house, besides pulverizing himself, pulverized, too, Lady Brimpton’s pet Pekingese “Waller,” without whom, she declared, life wasn’t worth living; and Lord Snipping, in setting fire to himself, set fire to Lady Snipping’s boudoir (which he had been secretly visiting), and thereby destroyed treasures which she tearfully declared were quite priceless, and could never be replaced.

Crowds of young married women were anxious to get rid of their rich old relatives, who clung on to life with a tenacity that was “most wearying.”

“Can you give me a spell that will make my grandmother go off suddenly?” a girl with beautiful, sad eyes said plaintively to Kelson.  “Don’t think me very wicked, but we are not at all well off—­and she has lived such a long time—­such a very long time.”

“You don’t want her to be ill first, I suppose,” Kelson inquired.

“Oh, no!” the girl replied, “she lives with us and we could never endure the worry and trouble of nursing her.  It must be something very sudden.”

“This will do it,” Kelson said, giving her a locket containing the mumia or essence of life of a mad dog; “fasten it round the old lady’s neck, and you will be astonished how soon it acts.”

“And what is your fee?” the girl asked, her eyes brimming over with joyous anticipation.

“For you—­nothing,” Kelson said gallantly.  “Only tell no one.  May I kiss your hand.”

The firm’s sale of spells for getting rid of husbands having risen one day to five hundred—­and the sale of their spells for putting old people out of the way to fifteen hundred—­even Hamar, who was no believer in the perfection of human nature, was astonished.

“My word!” he remarked.  “Isn’t this a revelation?  Who would have thought how many people have murder in their hearts?  At least half Society would, I believe, become homicides if only there were no chance of their being found out and punished.  Anyhow, if we go on at this rate there will be no old people left.”

And it did indeed seem as if such would be the case.  For the moment the idea got abroad that old people could be thrust out of existence with absolute safety and ease, there was a perfect mania amongst men, women, and even children, to get rid of them, and the deaths of people over sixty recorded in the papers multiplied every day.  The following is an extract from the Planet of July 28—­

    BOLT.—­On July 27, at No. ——­ Elgin Avenue, S.W., Emily Jane,
    loved and venerated mother of Mary Bolt, M.D., in her 69th year. 
    Drowned in her bath.  And all the Angels wept!

    CUSHMAN.—­On July 27, at No. ——­ Sheep Street, Northampton, Sarah
    Elizabeth, adored mother of Josiah Cushman, Plymouth Brother, in
    her 88th year.  Run over by a taxi.  Joy in Heaven!