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would all come to Capitol City to live and have such gatherings as this the year around. (Tremendous applause,)

Mr. Drinkwater would like to see parks all over the earth, where laborers could sit Sundays with their wives and drink from their pitchers of beer. (Loud cheering.) He was in favor of any man's bill who was in favor of water-works, and he hoped he was a practical man who could tell the size of a bill when he saw one-hic-hic! He was a man of few words and he would "yield the floor."

Having "yielded the floor," he accidentally sat on it. Even the chairs were getting tipsy.

The gentleman who was elected by the temperance vote sang: "Pull for the shore, sailor," as only a man "half seas over" can sing. In the midst of the second verse Mr. Snyder joined him with the song which he had been in the habit of singing in "aristocratic circles," while one of the lobbyists danced in the most approved ballet-dancer style.

One of the members jumped upon the table and declared that there would never be any peace until there was another war, preparatory to which he commenced to sing the "Battle Cry of Freedom."

It was three o'clock, Sunday morning, when the guests departed, under the guidance of Dan Sullivan and the Clipper. Mr. Snyder fell asleep on one of the couches in the room.

Still the dome of the Capitol pointed skyward!

CHAPTER XXV.

"They eat and drink and scheme and plod,

And go to church on Sunday;

And many are afraid of God,

And more of Mrs. Grundy."

-FREDERICK LOCKER-THE JESTER'S PLEA.

As Mr. Villars' respectable carriage halted, Sunday morning, at the church door, and that respectable little man walked to his pew, it really did seem, as Mr. Snyder had expressed it, that public spirit was bubbling out all over him.

The preacher's heart beat faster, and he blushed from his hair to his irreproachable necktie. Young ladies endeavored to look unconscious, mothers told their boys that that was Mr. Villars, and the boys commenced figuring how much the golden gates and jasper walls of heaven probably cost, and how many Mr. Villars could probably buy.

At the same time his trusted lieutenants, Mr. Snyder and the Clipper, entered the Capitol building on their way to the Labor Bureau, where they had an engagement with Chief Madmire.

Mr. Snyder's tongue was not so thick as it was the night before; but his head seemed thicker, and while the Clipper was talking glibly of the way to lobby, and telling funny stories, Mr. Snyder was thinking (to use a figure of speech), absent-mindedly, how much reward Mr. Villars would reap from the work of others. "I talked to White, last night, just as I said I should,"

snapped Mr. Madmire, lighting a cigar as Mr. Sny der and the Clipper became seated, "and of all unreasonable curs, he is the most doggish and dogged, and barks the loudest. If I had my way, such men would be prohibited from voting."

"Living right here," said the Clipper, "his vote is worth a half dozen votes to us."

"And he is one of those men," said Mr. Madmire, "who enjoy blocking legislation, -men who never vote with their heads,-who represent nothing but a stomach, appetite and alimentary canal. Oh, I talked Turkey to him."

"Affect him any?"

"Oh, he took a highly-moral, stage-hero position. Private job! State no right to enrich Mr. Villars! He must represent the poor! I told him I thought I knew as much about the interests of the poor as he did, but bah! he must vote on his conscience."

"Conscientious bird, eh?" said the Clipper; "very rare game."

"I told him in so many words," said Mr. Madmire, "that his dear friends, Mr. Arkwright and Miss Whitford, were dependent for their bread and butter on my support, and I had a right to make demands on him."

"What did he say to that?" said the Clipper. "Some nonsense-how, if they heard that, they would still insist on his voting conscientiously."

"By the Eternal," said Mr. Snyder, more awake than he had been so far this morning, "I am glad I had the political sagacity not to offer that whelp any park property.

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"Can't we hit White through this Arkwright?" said the Clipper.

"I advise you to begin with the devil first," said the chief.

The Clipper walked to the window, puffing his cigar very fast, and listening, a stranger might have thought, to the church bells which were just commencing to toll. Then he turned quickly and said, as he closed one eye:

"There is a way we can pass this bill and teach this high-toned sneak a lesson which he will not forget. "What's that?" the others asked quickly.

"There is a general impression that he is for sale. Our fellows have talked it until many believe that he is anxious to be bought. Well-let-us-prove it." "Ah."

Nothing else was said, and the stillness was sultry as before a storm, when Mr. Snyder finally remarked, with the disinterested wisdom of a weather prophet, that the wind was in that direction and Mr. Villars had seen it.

"Yes, he sees it," the Clipper said with a sly laugh. "It is in the interest of social order," Mr. Madmire added, "to lessen the influence of such men, or they will overturn our institutions. I say, bring them down to their proper station." And Mr. Madmire's laugh had in it something of the tiger's thrill as he added: "And I have always noticed that in the strug gle for existence Nature is not very particular about her methods."

"You hit it off like a philosopher," said the Clipper. "White said during the campaign that he would be willing to use money to influence labor legislation," said Mr. Snyder.

"Praise the Lord," said the Clipper.

"I have given the labor committee, of which he is a member, the use of our typewriter and the adjoining room after next week," said Mr. Madmire.

"Praise the Lord," said the Clipper.

At the same time Mr. Villars in his church pew muttered something of the same sort as he bowed his head and shut his eyes.

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