d you're
in!"

Poor Flambang, a modest, retiring man, peaceable proprietor of a small
shop, in which, by the force of prudence and economy, he has laid up
something, has a voice among his fellow-citizens and some influence, but
would as soon attempt to carry a blazing pine knot into a powder
magazine, or "ship" for a missionary to the Tongo Islands, as to run for
the Legislature _and make a speech in public!_ Twist knows it; he
guesses shrewdly at the effect.

"Why don't you run?" says Flambang, after many efforts to get his
breath.

"Me? Well, if you don't want to _run_."

"_Run?_ I would as soon think of jumping over the moon, as running for
office!" answers Flambang. "But I thank you, thank _you_ kindly, for
your good intentions, for _your_ confidence(!), Twist, and whatever good
I can do for you, I'll do, and--"

Twist having secured the first step to his _plot_, enters the caucus
chamber in deep and earnest consultation with Flambang, and while
preparations are being made to "histe the rag," he is seen making
converts to his sly purposes, upon the same principle by which he
converted his modest friend, Flambang.

"Who are you going in for to-night?" asks another "ambitious for
distinction" _unterrified_ of "a brother."

"Well, I don't know; it's hard to tell; good many wants to be nominated,
and good many more than will be," was the cogent reply.

"That's a fact!" was the equally clear response. "But 'tween you and I,
Pepper--I'd like to get the nomination for the Senate myself!"

"No-o-o?"

"Yes, sir; why shouldn't I? Hain't I stood by the party?"

"Well, and hain't I stood by it, hung by it, fastened to it?"

"Pepper, you have; so have I; now, I'll tell you what I'll do. You hang
by me, for the Senate, and I'll go in for you for the House."

"Agreed; hang by 'em, give 'em a blast, first opening, and while you are
fifing away for me, I'll go around for you, Captain Johns."

"Flammer, you going to go in for Smithers, to-night?" asks another of
"the party," of a confederate.

"Smithers? I don't know about that; I don't think he's the right kind of
a man for mayor, any how; do you?"

"Well, you know he's an almighty peart chap in talkin', and I guess
he'll be elected, if he's nominated and goes around speaking; but here
he is; let's feel his pulse." After a confab of some minutes between
Flammer, Smithers, and Skyblue, things seem to be fixed to mutual
satisfaction, and something is "dropped" abo