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 in the long run, so Cousin Sophia felt in her bones, but they might better die with warm feet than cold ones, so Cousin Sophia knitted faithfully and gloomily.

Into this peaceful scene erupted the doctor, wrathful and excited over the burning of the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa. And Susan became automatically quite as wrathful and excited.

“What will those Huns do next?” she demanded. “Coming over here and burning our Parliament buildings! Did any one ever hear of such an outrage?”

“We don’t know that the Germans are responsible for this,” said the doctor—much as if he felt quite sure they were, though. “Fires do start without their agency sometimes. And Uncle Mark MacAllister’s barn was burned last week. You can hardly accuse the Germans of that, Susan.”

“Indeed, Dr. dear, I do not know,’ Susan nodded slowly and portentously. “Whiskers-on-the-moon was there that very day. The fire broke out half an hour after he was gone. So much is a fact—but I shall not accuse a Presbyterian elder of burning any body’s barn until I have proof. However, everybody knows, Dr. dear, that both Uncle Mark’s boys have enlisted, and that Uncle Mark himself makes speeches at all the recruiting meetings. So no doubt Germany is anxious to get square with him.”

“I could never speak at a recruiting meeting,” said Cousin Sophia solemnly. “I could never reconcile it to my conscience to ask another woman’s son to go, to murder and be murdered.”

“Could you not?” said Susan. “Well, Sophia Crawford, I felt as if I could ask any one to go when I read last night that there were no children under eight