e Constitution and told to vote in the
Assembly. In that body he flourished for ten years, while his manhood
mildewed and his pockets filled.

The native State of Patrick Henry Hanway was a moss-grown member of the
republic and had been one of the original thirteen. It possessed with
other _impedimenta_ a moss-grown aristocracy that borrowed money,
devoured canvasbacks, drank burgundy, wore spotless tow in summer, clung
to the duello, and talked of days of greatness which had been before the
war. It carried moss-grown laws upon its statute books which arranged
for the capture of witches, the flogging of Quakers at a cart's tail,
the boring of Presbyterian tongues with red-hot irons, and the
punishment of masters who oppressed their hapless slaves with terrapin
oftener than three times a week. However, these measures, excellent
doubtless in their hour, together with the aristocracy referred to, had
fallen to decay.

The moss-grown aristocracy were aware in a lifeless, lofty way of
Patrick Henry Hanway, and tolerating while they despised him as one
without an origin, permitted him his place in the legislature. Somebody
must go, and why not Patrick Henry Hanway? They, the aristocracy, would
there command his services in what legislation touching game, and
oysterbeds, and the foreclosure of mortgages they required, and that was
all their need. The supple Patrick Henry Hanway thanked the aristocracy
for the honor, took the place, and carried out their wishes for
patrolling oysterbeds, protecting canvasbacks, and preventing
foreclosures.

While these conditions of mutual helpfulness subsisted, and Patrick
Henry Hanway kept his hat off in the presence of his patrons, nothing
could be finer than that peace which was. But time went on, and storms
of change came brewing. Patrick Henry Hanway, expanding beyond the
pent-up Utica of a State Capitol, decided upon a political migration to
the Senate of the United States.

When this news was understood by men, the shocked aristocracy let their
canvasbacks grow cold and their burgundy stand untasted. With horrified
voice they commanded "No!" The United States Senate had been ever
reserved for gentlemen, and Patrick Henry Hanway was a clod. The fiat
went forth; Patrick Henry Hanway should not go to the Senate; a
wide-eyed patrician wonder was abroad that he should have had the
insolent temerity to harbor such a dream--he who was of the social
reptilia and could not show an ancestor