it to themselves by laying an offering upon the shrine as evidence of faith before the goods are delivered."
"I gotcher!" said the Flopper enthusiastically. "Why say, Doc, dat's de way I'd do meself—swipe me, if I wouldn't!"
"That's the way nearly everybody would do," said Madison, laughing. "There's at least a few similar kinks common to our noble race—we're busy most of the time trying to fool ourselves one way or another. Well, that's about all. I can't lay out a programme for every minute of the day—you and Helena have got to use your heads and work along that general idea. You play up your gratitude strong. And, oh yes—keep the altar box well baited. Let Helena put some of her near-diamond rings and joujabs in until we collect some genuine ones—and then keep the genuine ones going—change every day for variety, you know. And take the silver money out every time you see any in—not that we scorn it in the great aggregate, far from it—it's just psychology again, Flopper. I went to church once and sat beside a duck with a white waistcoat and chop whiskers, who wore the dollar sign sticking out so thick all over him that you couldn't see anything else; and when it came time for collection he peeled a bill off a roll the size of a house, and waited for the collection plate to come along. But he got his eye on the plate a couple of pews ahead and it was full of coppers and chicken feed,
