' sthreet-ca-ars. He wint to th' picnics, an' hired th' orchesthry
f'r th' dances, an' voted himsilf th' most pop'lar man at th' church
fair at an expinse iv at laste five hundherd dollars. No wan that come
near him wanted f'r money. He had headquarthers in ivry saloon fr'm wan
end iv th' ward to th' other. All th' pa-apers printed his pitcher, an'
sthud by him as th' frihd iv th' poor.

"Well, people liked to hear Dorgan at first, but afther a few months
they got onaisy. He had a way iv breakin' into festive gatherin's that
was enough to thry a saint. He delayed wan prize fight two hours,
encouragin' th' voters prisint to stand be their principles, while th'
principles sat shiverin' in their cor-rners until th' polis r-run him
out. It got so that men'd bound into alleys whin he come up th' sthreet.
People in th' liquor business rayfused to let him come into their
places. His fam'ly et in th' coal-shed f'r fear iv his speeches at
supper. He wint on talkin', and Willum J. O'Brien wint on handin' out
th' dough that he got fr'm th' gas company an' con-ciliatin' th' masses;
an', whin iliction day come, th' judges an' clerks was all f'r O'Brien,
an' Dorgan didn't get votes enough to wad a gun. He sat up near all
night in his long coat, makin' speeches to himsilf; but tord mornin' he
come over to my place where O'Brien sat with his la-ads. 'Well,' says
O'Brien, 'how does it suit ye?' he says. 'It's sthrange,' says Dorgan.
'Not sthrange at all,' says Willum J. O'Brien. 'Whin ye've been in
politics as long as I have, ye'll know,' he says, 'that th' roly-boly is
th' gr-reatest or-rator on earth,' he says. 'Th' American nation in th'
Sixth Ward is a fine people,' he says. 'They love th' eagle,' he says,
'on th' back iv a dollar,' he says. 'Well,' says Dorgan, 'I can't
undherstand it,' he says. 'I med as manny as three thousan' speeches,'
he says. 'Well,' says Willum J. O'Brien, 'that was my majority,' he
says. 'Have a dhrink,' he says."

ON CHRISTMAS GIFTS.

The approach of Christmas is heralded in Archey Road by many of the
signs that are known to the less civilized and more prosperous parts of
the city. The people look poorer, colder, and more hopeful than at other
times. The bakeries assume an old country appearance of gayety. The
saloons are well filled. Also, if you have your eyes about you, you may
catch a glimpse, now and then, through a frosted window-pane of a
stunted Christmas tree, laden slenderly with glass