who bore them on separate occasions with
cordiality. One envoy reported that Jimmy would support his party
through thick and thin, and the other reported, "We have him, hide and
boot and all." He was no chicken--Jimmy.

There was some curiosity as to when Jimmy would make his first speech
in the House, and on what subject. The press gallery, to a man, was
willing to bet that it would be interesting, and not one-hundredth part
so long as the first speech made by "The Big Wind." Attempts to pump
Jimmy were of no avail, for he declared with emphatic words and
gestures that he didn't know. "All I'm sure of," he said, "is that
I'll make one some day, if I don't drop dead of heart disease when I
get up to speak. I hope it'll be some nice quiet afternoon; there's
too many folks here at nights to suit me."

"Well, but you addressed far larger audiences during your campaign,"
said one of the reporters.

"Yes," answered Jimmy, "but it was a different crowd; most of the bunch
that comes to the galleries here at nights are pretty keen politicians.
Lots of 'em have been coming for years. They know all the points of
order, and everything like that, and because I'd know that they knew I
was tearing holes in the rules of the House, and the English language,
I'd likely feel that I'd better not take a fling. But, what's the use
of talking?--I don't know what I'll say or do. Did any of you fellows
know Father LeRoy, down our way, who died a little while ago?"

Some of them had known him.

"Well, fifteen years or so ago, there was a gang of housebreakers and
burglars that got on people's nerves. They pulled off many a robbery,
beat up a number of people, and had the whole district terrorised. The
police didn't seem able to get on to any good clues, though goodness
knows they worked hard. Well, it got so that people were afraid to
leave anything worth while in their houses when they went to church
services. So they stayed at home more frequently than usual. Father
LeRoy felt pretty bad about his own people who did this, and prayed for
an end to 'the plague,' as he called it. He was sorrowful, too, about
the robberies, because he had a sneaking suspicion that some of his own
parishioners were mixed up in them, and he was right.

"He wasn't much of a man for size, the Father, and was never known to
have displayed any great strength, but he had a bright, keen eye, a
firm step, and a hearty hand-shake that showed he was hea