“That’s what I’ve heard, Henry.”
“And the first thing we know, the League’ll have put in such a big wedge that it’ll be too late to get it out. If this amendment gets over, Mix’ll have a show in the fall, and then the League’ll run wild. Just as they said in those pamphlets that Mix published, and then squirmed out of. Isn’t that so?”
“Very likely. Very likely.”
“And yet everybody’s afraid to stand up 263 against it, for fear they’ll be called names?”
“It looks so, Henry.”
“But if the people once started a back fire––”
The Judge shook his head. “Mobs don’t start without a leader.”
“I know, but if they ever realized what a ghastly farce it would be––not even using any of the League’s new notions, but taking what we’ve got on the books right now––” He opened the volume of ordinances, and read slowly: “‘Whosoever shall fail in the strict observance of the Lord’s Day by any unseemly act, speech or carriage; or whosoever shall engage in any manner of diversion––’” Here he paused impressively. “‘––or profane occupation––’” He slung the volume on the desk, and faced the Judge. “Don’t you get it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t––quite.”
“Why,” said Henry, with a beatific grin. “Why, there’s a comma after that word ‘diversion.’ I’ve just come from the City Hall. I’ve seen the original copy. There is a comma. ‘Any manner of diversion’––that’s one thing: ‘or any manner of profane occupation for 264 profit––’ that’s something else again, and different entirely. And the Reform League has been shrieking to have that ordinance enforced––to say nothing of the amendment. Well, why not enforce it once. ‘Any manner of diversion?’” He began to laugh, helplessly. “Oh, come on, Judge––take the pins out and let your imagination down. Any manner of––”