"Bad manners!" said Shirley, "and I hate bad manners. Of course, they must have a lesson."
"A lesson in politeness," suggested Mr. Hall, who was ever for peace; "not an example of rudeness."
Old Helstone moved on. Quickening his step, he marched some yards in advance of his company. He had nearly reached the other sable leaders, when he who appeared to act as the hostile commander-in-chief--a large, greasy man, with black hair combed flat on his forehead--called a halt. The procession paused. He drew forth a hymn book, gave out a verse, set a tune, and they all struck up the most dolorous of canticles.

"Bad manners!" said Shirley. "Of course, they must have a lesson."
"A lesson in politeness," suggested Mr. Hall; "not an example of rudeness."
Old Helstone marched on ahead of his company, quickening his step. He had nearly reached the other group, when its leader - a large, greasy man, with black hair combed flat - called a halt. He drew forth a hymn book, gave out a verse, and his group struck up the most dolorous of songs.
