THE REDEMPTION OF ANTHONY
"'Turn again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London,'" said Mrs. Crompton softly. Then they both laughed.
"You're a very nice woman—sometimes," said The Parson, "but in great need of training."
"Oh!" exploded Mrs. Crompton.
In due time and without further recrimination they arrived at the part of the river where fish abounded. The Parson fitted up the poles and turned to Mrs. Crompton. "Pass over a handful of bait," he said.
Mrs. Crompton opened the bucket and promptly dropped it, whereupon a writhing mass of worms squirmed at her feet, and she fled.
"Oh, drat it!' said The Parson, on his knees, shoveling them back. "I forgot you were a woman."
"How can you!" she protested. "Why don't you shovel them in with the lid of the bucket?"
"They don't bite, you know," he assured her, baiting her hook. "Now we'll throw
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