rule in it.

That day the bar was closed for good, and there was a good bit of
fussing. To add to the trouble, that evening at dinner the pastries
were cut off, and at eight o'clock a delegation headed by Senator Biggs
visited Mr. Pierce in the office and demanded pastry put back on the
menu and the stewed fruit taken off. But Mr. Pierce was firm and they
came out pretty well subdued. It was that night, I think, that candles
were put in the bedrooms, and all the electric lights were turned off at
nine-thirty.

At ten o'clock I took my candle and went to Mr. Pierce's sitting-room
door. I didn't think they'd stand much more and I wanted to tell him so.
Nobody answered and I opened the door. He was asleep, face down on the
hearth-rug in front of the fire. His candle was lighted on the floor
beside him and near it lay a newspaper cutting crumpled in a ball.
I picked it up. It was a list of the bridal party for Miss Patty's
wedding.

I dropped it where I found it and went out and knocked again loudly. He
wakened after a minute and came to the door with the candle in his hand.

"Oh, it's you, Minnie. Come in!"

I went in and put my candle on the table.

"I've got to talk to you," I said. "I don't mind admitting things have
been going pretty well, but--they won't stand for the candles. You mark
my words."

"If they'll stand for the bar being closed, why not the candles?" he
demanded.

"Well," I said, "they can't have electric light sent up in boxes and
labeled 'books,' but they can get liquor that way."

He whistled, and then he laughed.

"Then we'll not have any books," he said. "I guess they can manage. 'My
only books were woman's looks--'" and then he saw the ball of paper on
the floor and his expression changed. He walked over and picked it up,
smoothing it out on the palm of his hand.

After a minute he looked up at me.

"I haven't been to the shelter-house to-day. They are all right?"

"They're nervous. With everybody walking these days they daren't venture
a nose out of doors."

He was still holding the clipping.

"And--Miss Jennings!" he said. "She--I think she looks better."

"Her father's in a better humor for one thing--says Abraham Lincoln
split logs, and that it beats massage."

I had been standing in the doorway, but he took me by the arm and drew
me into the room.

"I wish you'd sit down for about ten minutes, Minnie," he said. "I guess
every fellow has a time when he's got to tell his tr