The new copy-writer was surprisingly industrious that day. He was still in his room, toiling over Sanfect (“Wherever there’s Dirt there’s Danger!” “The Skeleton in the Watercloset,” “Assassins Lurk in your Scullery!” “Deadlier than Shell-Fire—GERMS!!!”) when Mrs. Crump led in her female army to attack the day’s accumulated dirt—armed, one regrets to say, not with Sanfect, but with plain yellow soap and water. “Come in, come in!” cried Mr. Bredon, genially, as the good lady paused reverently at his door. “Come and sweep me and my works away with the rest of the rubbish.”
