Saunders might deplore it, rumour persistently pointed to
the Crick he-cat as the presumable father of sundry kittens
of which the Saunders she-cat was indisputably the mother.
Mrs. Saunders drowned the kittens, but the disgrace
remained.

  Summer succeeded spring, and winter summer, but the feud
outlasted the waning seasons.  Once, indeed, it seemed as
though the healing influences of religion might restore to
Toad-Water its erstwhile peace; the hostile families found
themselves side by side in the soul-kindling atmosphere of a
Revival Tea, where hymns were blended with a beverage that
came of tea-leaves and hot water and took after the latter
parent, and where ghostly counsel was tempered by
garnishings of solidly fashioned buns---and here, wrought up
by the environment of festive piety, Mrs. Saunders so far
unbent as to remark guardedly to Mrs. Crick that the evening
had been a fine one.  Mrs.  Crick, under the influence of
her ninth cup of tea and her fourth hymn, ventured on the
hope that it might continue fine, but a maladroit allusion
on the part of the Saunders good man to the backwardness of
garden crops brought the Feud stalking forth from its comer
with all its old bitterness.  Mrs. Saunders joined heartily
in the singing of the final hymn, which told of peace and
joy and archangels and golden glories; but her thoughts were
dwelling on the pauper aunt of Exeter.

  Years have rolled away, and some of the actors in this
wayside drama have passed into the Unknown; other onions
have arisen, have flourished, have gone their way, and the
offending hen has long since expiated her misdeeds and lain
with trussed feet and look of ineffable peace under the
arched roof of Barnstaple market.  But the Blood-feud of
Toad-Water survives to this day.

		A YOUNG TURKISH CATASTROPHE
		       IN TWO SCENES

  The Minister for Fine Arts (to whose Department had been
lately added the new subsection of Electoral Engineering)
paid a business visit to the Grand Vizier.  According to
Eastern etiquette they discoursed for a while on indifferent
subjects.  The Minister only checked himself in time from
making a passing reference to the Marathon Race, remembering
that the Vizier had a Persian grandmother and might consider
any allusion to Marathon as somewhat tactless.  Presently
the Minister touched the subject of his interview.

 ``Under the new Constitution are women to have votes?'' he
asked suddenly.

  ``To have votes? Women?'' exclaimed the Vizier in some
astonishment.  ``My dear Pasha, the New Departure has a
flavour of the absurd as it is; don't let's try and make it
altogether ridiculous.  Women have no souls and no
intelligence; why on earth should they have votes?''

  ``I know it sounds absurd,'' said the Minister, ``but they
are seriously considering the idea in the West.''

  ``Then they must have a larger equipment of seriousness
than I gave them credit for.  After a lifetime of
specialized effort in maintaining my gravity I can scarcely
restrain an inclination to smile at the suggestion.  Why,
our womenfolk in most cases don't know how to read or write.
How could they perform the operation of voting?''

  ``They could be shown the names of the candidates and
where to make their cross.''

  ``I beg your pardon?'' interrupted the Vizier.

 ``Their crescent, I mean,'' corrected the Minister, ``It
would be to the liking of the Young Turkish Party,'' he
added.

 ``Oh, well,'' said the Vizier, ``if we are to do the thing
at all we may as well go the whole h---'' he pulled up just
as he was uttering the name of an unclean animal, and
continued, ``the complete camel.  I will issue instructions
that womenfolk are to have votes.''

			*

  The poll was drawing to a close in the Lakoumistan
division.  The candidate of the Young Turkish Party was
known to be three or four hundred votes ahead, and he was
already drafting his address, returning thanks to the
electors.  His victory had been almost a foregone
conclusion, for he had set in motion all the approved
electioneering machinery of the West.  He had even employed
motor-cars.  Few of his supporters had gone to the poll in
these vehicles, but, thanks to the intelligent driving of
his chauffeurs, many of his opponents had gone to their
graves or to the local hospitals, or otherwise abstained
from voting.  And then something unlooked-for happened.  The
rival candidate, Ali the Blest, arrived on the scene with
his wives and womenfolk, who numbered, roughly, six hundred.
Ali had wasted little effort on election literature, but had
been heard to remark that every vote given to his opponent