pping and cheers from a gentleman in
the darkness, afterwards identified as Mr. Tooting.) Now, my friends, are
you going to continue to allow a citizen of New York to nominate your
governors, and do you intend, tamely, to give the Honourable Adam B. Hunt
your votes?"

"They ain't got any votes," said a voice--not that of Mr. Hastings Weare,
for it came from the depths of the gallery.

"'The hand that rocks the cradle sways the world,'" answered Mr. Crewe,
and there was no doubt about the sincerity of the applause this time.

"The campaign of the Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith," said the State
Tribune next day, "was inaugurated at the Opera House in Ripton last
night before an enthusiastic audience consisting of Mr. Austen Vane, Mr.
Thomas Gaylord, Jr., Mr. Hamilton Tooting, two reporters, and
seventy-four ladies, who cheered the speaker to the echo. About half of
these ladies were summer residents of Leith in charge of the well-known
social leader, Mrs. Patterson Pomfret,--an organized league which, it is
understood, will follow the candidate about the State in the English
fashion, kissing the babies and teaching the mothers hygienic cooking and
how to ondule the hair."

After speaking for an hour and a half, the Honourable Humphrey Crewe
declared that he would be glad to meet any of the audience who wished to
shake his hand, and it was Mrs. Pomfret who reached him first.

"Don't be discouraged, Humphrey,--you are magnificent," she whispered.

"Discouraged!" echoed Mr. Crewe. "You can't kill an idea, and we'll see
who's right and who's wrong before I get through with 'em."

"What a noble spirit!" Mrs. Pomfret exclaimed aside to Mrs. Chillingham.
Then she added, in a louder tone, "Ladies, if you will kindly tell me
your names, I shall be happy to introduce you to the candidate. Well,
Victoria, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Why not?" said Victoria. "Humphrey, accept my congratulations."

"Did you like it?" asked Mr. Crewe. "I thought it was a pretty good
speech myself. There's nothing like telling the truth, you know. And, by
the way, I hope to see you in a day or two, before I start for Kingston.
Telephone me when you come down to Leith."

The congratulations bestowed on the candidate by the daughter of the
president of the Northeastern Railroads quite took the breath out of the
spectators who witnessed the incident, and gave rise to the wildest
conjectures. And the admiration of Mr. Hastings Weare wa