if there must be something in it over there. Isn't that
McSorley over again? Low forehead, pug nose, bulldog tendencies." Mr.
Ducker was something of a phrenologist, and went blithely on to his own
destruction.

"Now the girl is rather pleasant looking, and some of the others are
not bad at all. But this one is surely a regular little Mickey. I
believe a person would be safe in saying that he would not grow up a
Presbyterian."--Mr. Evans was the worshipful Grand Master of the Loyal
Orange Lodge, and well up in the Black, and this remark Mr. Ducker
thought he would appreciate.

"McSorley will never be dead while this little fellow lives," Mr.
Ducker laughed merrily, rubbing his hands.

The czar looked up and saw his father. Perhaps he understood what had
been said, and saw the hurt in his father's face and longed to heal him
of it; perhaps the time had come when he should forever break the
goo-goo bonds that had lain upon his speech. He wriggled off Mary's
knee, and toddling uncertainly across the grass with a mighty mental
conflict in his pudgy little face, held out his dimpled arms with a
glad cry of "Daddy-dinger!"

That evening while Mrs. Ducker and Maudie were busy fanning Mr. Ducker
and putting wet towels on his head, Mr. Evans sat down to write.

"Some more of that tiresome election stuff, John," his pretty little
wife said in disappointment, as she proudly rocked the emancipated czar
to sleep.

"Yes, dear, it is election stuff, but it is not a bit tiresome," he
answered smiling, as he kissed her tenderly. Several times during the
evening, and into the night, she heard him laugh his happy boyish laugh.

James Ducker did not get the nomination.

CHAPTER X

THE BUTCHER-RIDE

Patsey Watson waited on the corner of the street. It was in the early
morning and Patsey's face bore marks of a recent and mighty conflict
with soap and water. Patsey looked apprehensively every now and then at
his home; his mother might emerge any minute and insist on his wearing
a coat; his mother could be very tiresome that way sometimes.

It seemed long this morning to wait for the butcher, but the only way
to be sure of a ride was to be on the spot. Sometimes there were delays
in getting away from home. Getting on a coat was one; finding a hat was
the worst of all. Since Bugsey got the nail in his foot and could not
go out the hat question was easier. The hat was still hard to find, but
not impossible.

Wilford Ducker ca