-caucusing on a small scale.

"Flambang, who'd you think of puttin' up to-night for the _Senate_, in
our ward?" asks a cadaverous, but earnest _unterrified_, of a brother in
the same cause.

"Well, I swan, I don't know; what do you think of Jenkins?"

"Jenkins?" leisurely responded the first speaker; "Jenkins is a pooty
good sort of a man, but he ain't known; made himself rather unpop'ler by
votin' agin that _grand junction railroad to the north pole_ bill, afore
the Legislature, three years ago; besides he's served two years in the
Legislature, and been in the custom house two years; talks of going to
California or somewhere else, next spring--so I-a, I-a--don't think much
of Jenkins, anyhow!"

"Well, then," says Flambang, "there's Dr. Rhubarb; what do you think of
him? He's a sound _unterrified_, good man."

"A--ye-e-e-s, the doctor's pooty good sort of a man, but I don't think
its good policy to run doctors for office. If they are defeated it sours
their minds equal to cream of tartar; it spiles their practice, and
'tween you and I, Flambang, if they takes a spite at a man that didn't
vote for 'em, and he gets sick, they're called in; how easy it is _for
'em to poison us!_"

"Good gracious!--you don't say so?"

"I _don't_ say, of course I don't say so of Dr. Rhubarb. I only supposed
a case," replied the wily _caucuser_.

"A case? Yes-s-s; a feller would be a case, under them circumstances.
I'm down on doctors, then, Twist; but what do you say to Blowpipes? He's
one of our best speakers--"

"_Gas!_" pointedly responded Twist.

"Gas? Well, you voted for him last year, when he run for Congress; you
were the first man to nominate him, too!"

"So I was, and I voted for him, drummed for him, fifed and blowed; that
was no reason for my thinking him the best man we had for the office.
He's a demagogue, an ambitious, sly, selfish feller, as we could skeer
up; but, he was in our way, we couldn't get shut of him; I proposed the
nomination, and tried to elect him, so that we should get him out of the
way of our local affairs, and more deserving and less pretendin' men
could get a chance, don't you see? Now, Flambang, you're the man I'm
goin' in for to-night!"

"Me! Mr. Twist? Why, bless your soul, I don't want office!"

"Come, now, don't be modest. I'll lay the ground-work, you'll be
nominated--I'll not be known in it--you'll get the nomination--called
out for a speech--so be on the trigger--give 'em a rouser, an