"Us was standing at attention," he would say, "as I be standing now, when the dam thing falls slam-bang in front of we. Neighbours, 'twas a moment as won't bear thinking on. Many souls all unfit for Kingdom Come. What does we do? We falls atop o' that there cannon-ball--'twas big enough to blow a thousand fellers to glory--and hugs it to our buzzums. 'Tain't a thing to brag about, but us was in the noospapers, and--and, well, you knows the end on't--Buckingham Pallis! And, believe me or not, neighbours, but this be sober truth. Me and King Garge was hobnobbing together for the space of one mortial minute, just so friendly and kind as true brothers. I nodded to 'un, as I nods to you, and, by Jo! he nods back to me." Jane Mucklow had believed that George would perish in his first action. He had come triumphantly through half-a-dozen. And, to-day, he wore the proudest decoration that England's King can bestow. At a bound, she became an impassioned optimist. She discerned clearly the hand of Providence. King George was beheld as the Lord's Anointed. Queen Mary towered higher than he as the sacrosanct Mother. Mrs. Mucklow had her tale to tell, and told it with Uncle's unction and satisfaction. "Queen Mary looked at my Garge as if 'twas her own dear son. Yes, she did. And then she smiles sweetly at me. I tell 'ee this--Queeny Mary was just so proud o' my Garge as I be. A good, kind 'ooman! I allows that, now and again, I ha' raised my blasphemious voice against they crowned heads, believing in my every-day way that they wore golden crowns when we pore folks was a-wearing made-over bonnets. Such wicked thoughts be clean gone from me. I be fair aching to sing 'God save the Queen' next Sunday morning." A neighbour remarked timidly: "Lard bless 'ee, Jane Mucklow, we sings 'God save the King.'" Jane answered solemnly: "You sings what you please. I began my life singing 'God save the Queen.' And I means to sing it again next Sunday." But the glory that encompassed her nephew's thick head as with a halo flickered like a farthing dip in the mind of Susan Yellam. Her poor heart was lacerated by envy and jealousy. If George were indeed chosen by Providence to wear the Victoria Cross, what decoration would He award to her Alfred? The press had laid emphasis upon George being amongst the first to volunteer. If Queeny Mary knew the whole truth, would she have smiled sweetly at George's mother? Not she! She laid the matter before Solomon that same night, after the memorable function which took place at the Shrine. "Solly, my soul be in sore trouble." Solomon considered this attentively. "Yes, my dog, I be setting in the seat o' the scornful. I be weary o' my groanings. I ha' conceived sorrow and brought forth ungodliness." Solomon whined.