in that father's heart. It would spoil the boy, and Lockwin,
himself almost a spoiled son, has had an especial horror of parental
over-indulgence.

So, therefore, he is now free to take that little form in his arms.
The women will rid it of the nightgown and put on a cleaner garment.
And while they do this act, the man will kiss that form, beginning at
the soles of the feet.

--Those holy fields
Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed
For our advantage on the bitter cross.--

Why do these lines course through the man's brain? Curses on that
flaxseed and that vile drug which made these fields so hard for these
little feet. Any way, the man may gather this clay in his arms. No
one else shall touch it! It is a long way down these stairs! Never at
the window again, Davy. "I would give a thousand dollars." Well, God
bless Richard Tarbelle. If it were a longer distance to carry this
load, it would be far better! Light up the back parlor! Let us have
that ironing-board! Fix the chairs thus! He must have a good book.
It shall be Josephus. Oh, God! "Josephus, papa." Yes, yes, Davy.
Put curly-head on Josephus.

The man is crooning. He is happy with his dead.

He talks to the nearest person and to Davy.

There is a great noise at the head of the street. There is an inflow
of the people. The shrill flageolet, the brass horns, the bass drums,
the crash of the general brass and the triangle--these sounds fill the
air.

Where is the people's idol, elected to Congress by to-night's count,
already conceded at Opposition head-quarters?

The orator stands over his dead. What is that? Elected to Congress?
A speech?

"It will be better," says Richard Tarbelle. "Come up on the balcony,
Mr. Lockwin. It will be better."

This noise relieves the father's brain. How fortunate it has come.
The orator goes up by a rear stairway. He appears on the balcony.
There is a cheer that may be heard all over the South Side.

"He looks haggard," says the first citizen.

"You'd look tired if you opened your barrel the way he did," vouchsafes
the second citizen.

The orator lifts his voice. It is the proudest moment of his life, he
assures them. In this eventful day's work the nation has been offered
a guarantee of its welfare. The sanctity of our institutions has been
vindicated.

Here the tin-horns, the cat-calls, the drunken congratulation