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but we will be down the next.’ ‘Well, Sophia Crawford,’ said I—for I never will give in to her, Mrs. Dr. dear—‘God Himself cannot make two hills without a hollow between them, as I have heard it said, but that is no reason why we should not take the good of the hills when we are on them.’ But Cousin Sophia moaned on. ‘Here is the Gallipolly expedition a failure and the Grand Duke Nicholas sent off, and every one knows the Czar of Rooshia is a pro-German and the Allies have no ammunition and Bulgaria is going against us. And the end is not yet, for England and France must be punished for their deadly sins until they repent in sackcloth and ashes.’ ‘I think myself,’ I said, ‘that they will do their repenting in khaki and trench mud, and it also seems to me that the Huns should have a few sins to repent of also.’ ‘They are instruments in the hand of the Almighty, to purge the garner,’ said Sophia. And then I got mad, Mrs. Dr. dear, and told her I did not and never would believe that the Almighty ever took such dirty instruments in hand for any purpose whatever, and that I did not consider it decent for her to be using the words of Holy Writ as glibly as she was doing in ordinary conversation. She was not, I told her, a minister or even an elder. And for the time being I squelched her, Mrs. Dr. dear. Cousin Sophia has no spirit. She is very different from her niece, Mrs. Dean Crawford over-harbour. You know the Dean Crawfords had five boys and now the new baby is another boy. All the connection and especially Dean Crawford were much disappointed because their hearts had been set on a girl; but Mrs. Dean just laughed and said, “Everywhere I went this summer I saw the sign “MEN