"Come an' rule over us," the crowd invited him, and a gleam of proud delight woke in his silly face.
"The heat—his head won't stand it." The woman looked up at the cloudless sky. "For God's sake take your fun elsewhere!" she cried.
The women who were led to judgment looked at her stupidly. They too suffered, without understanding, the heavy sport of men. At last one said—
"Old woman, let him come. We'll have more mercy from a mazed man."
"Sister, you've been loose, they tell me," answered the old woman, "an' must eat the bitter fruit o't. But my son's an innocent. Jonathan, they'll look for you at the works."
"There's prouder work for me 'pon Dragon's Moor," the Mounster decided, with smiling eyes. "Come along, mother, an' see me exalted."
The crowd bore him off at their head, and the din broke out again. The new Mayor strutted among them with lilted chin and a radiant face. He thought it glorious. His
