Master Jaggars made a moving speech, in which he glowingly described the luxury in which the heathen small-boy wallows. “He ain’t washed, and he can wear just as little cloze as hesermineter. There ain’t no school for him, nor no Sunday, you bet. He can go swimmin’ every day, and can just lay off on the bank and see the crocodiles scoop in washerwomen and such. Then his back yard is chuck full of tigers and hipopomusses, and no end of snakes, and he can steal his dad’s gun and shoot ’em out of the back window. This is the chap that rakes in all our money, and I say its mor’n we ought to stand. Now, I move that we all turn heathen ourselves. The folks can’t make us wash and go to school if we’re heathen, and all the other boys will have to put up their money for us.” It is needless to say that this speech was received with tumultuous applause. Howls of execration went up as the luxuries of the hated heathen were described, and the proposal to adopt heathenism as a profession was unanimously supported. A slight temporary opposition was manifested by Master Sabin, who maintained that in order to become heathen they must first have their eyes put out—a theory which was based upon a misinterpretation of the hymn which speaks of “the heathen in his blindness.” The objector, however, was soon convinced of his error, and expressed thereupon a hearty desire to become a heathen. The details of the scheme were all arranged by Master Jaggars. A plaster bust of Mr. S. J. Tilden was decided to be ugly enough to serve as an idol, and the amateur heathen placed it on an empty barrel in the barn, and bowed down to it with much gravity. They discarded all their clothing except a towel twisted around the waist, and blackened their entire bodies with burnt cork. There could be no doubt that they were very successful heathen in appearance, and, as it was late in the afternoon, they resolved to spend the night in the barn; to breakfast on the spoils of Deacon Pratt’s orchard, and to attend Sunday-school in a body, in order to collect tribute from the Christian boys. The Sunday-school opened as usual the next morning, although the absence of eleven boys created a good deal of remark. Soon after the exercises had begun, the teachers were astounded at the entrance of Master Jaggars and his ten associate heathen. It is only fair to say that the heathen behaved themselves with as much propriety as their professional duties would permit. Master Jaggars advanced to the Superintendent and remarked, “If you please, Sir, we’ve all turned heathen. There ain’t no foolin’ about it. We’ve got a first-class old idol, and we don’t believe in nothing no more. So, if you please, Sir, will you please tell them Christian boys to fork over half of all the money they’re got, and to remember how blessed it is to consecrate it to real genuine heathen.”