"It's no use, Val, old chap, you'll never make a good boy of me. It's the old story of the silk purse and the sow's ear."
Valentine laughed too.
"I'm afraid I never shall," he answered. "The joke is that you're always ready to bring the whole place about your ears with some mad prank, and then when a cartload of bricks does fall on your head, you say, 'It's just your luck, and that—'"
"A collection will be taken at the door in aid of the poor fund at the close of the present service," interrupted the other. "Good-bye—I'm off!"
He moved away a step or two, then came softly back, and began to rumple his cousin's hair; whereupon an exciting struggle ensued, which brought them both down on to the floor, and ended with the edifying spectacle of the preacher sitting flushed and triumphant on the congregation's chest.
CHAPTER XI.
"OUT OF THE FRYING-PAN—"
"Above all, beware of the cat."—The Ugly Duckling.
"Here, Val, you're just the man I want! Tell me something to say."