s sitting aloof from the crowd, his chair leaning against one of
the columns, his legs crossed, his eyes closed, and his hands folded in
his lap. But for an occasional nervous movement of his thin lips, and
the twitching of his thumbs, he might have served as a model for a
statue of Repose. As a matter of fact, all his faculties were alert.

The crowd of loungers was somewhat larger than usual, having been
augmented during the day by three commercial agents and a couple of
cotton-buyers. Lawyer Tidwell was taking advantage of the occasion to
expound and explain several very delicate and intricate constitutional
problems. Mr. Tidwell was a very able man in some respects, and he was a
very good talker, although he wanted to do all the talking himself. He
lowered his voice slightly, as he saw Mr. Sanders, but kept on with his
exposition of our organic law.

"Hello, Mr. Sanders!" said one of the cotton-buyers, taking advantage of
a momentary pause in Mr. Tidwell's monologue; "how are you getting on
these days?"

"Well, I was gittin' on right peart tell to-day, but this mornin' I
struck a job that's made me weak an' w'ary."

"You're looking mighty well, anyhow. What has been the trouble to-day?"

"Why, I'll tell you," responded Mr. Sanders, with a show of animation.
"I've been gwine round all day tryin' to git up subscriptions for to
build a flatform for Gus Tidwell. Gus needs a place whar he can stand
an' explutterate on the Constitution all day, and not be in nobody's
way."

"Well, of course you succeeded," remarked Mr. Tidwell, good-naturedly.

"Middlin' well--middlin' well. A coloured lady flung a dime in the box,
an' I put in a quarter. In all, I reckon I've raised a dollar an' a
half. But I reely believe I could 'a' raised a hunderd dollars ef I'd
'a' told 'em whar the flatform was to be built."

"Where is that?" some one inquired.

"In the pine-thicket behind the graveyard," responded Mr. Sanders, so
earnestly and promptly that the crowd shouted with laughter. Even Mr.
Tidwell, who was "case-hardened," as Mrs. Absalom would say, to Mr.
Sanders's jokes, joined in with the rest.

"Gus is a purty good lawyer," said Mr. Sanders, lifting his voice a
little to make sure that Silas Tomlin would hear every syllable of what
he intended to say; "but he'll never be at his best till he finds out
that the Constitution, like the Bible, can be translated to suit the
idees of any party or any crank. But I allers brag on Gu