n a deep voice:

"He sows ill luck who hinders the reaper."

Mr. Wright hung his sickle on a small tree in the dooryard and answered.

"The plowman has overtaken the reaper, Mr. President. I bid you welcome
to my humble home."

"It is a pleasure to be here and a regret to call you back to
Washington," said the President as they shook hands.

"I suppose that means an extra session," the Senator answered.

"First let me reassure you. I shall get away as soon as possible, for I
know that a President is a heavy burden for one to have on his hands."

"Don't worry. I can get along with almost any kind of a human being,
especially if he likes pudding and milk as well as you do," said the
Senator, who then introduced me in these words:

"Mr. President, this is my young friend Barton Baynes of the
neighborhood of Lickitysplit in the town of Ballybeen--a coming man of
this county."

"Come on," was the playful remark of the President as he took my hand.
"I shall be looking for you."

I had carefully chosen my words and I remember saying, with some
dignity, like one in a story book, although with a trembling voice:

"It is an honor to meet you, sir, and thank you for the right to
vote--when I am old enough."

Vividly, too, I remember his gentle smile as he looked down at me and
said in a most kindly tone:

"I think it a great honor to hear you say that."

He put his hands upon my shoulders and turning to the Senator said:

"Wright, I often wish that I had your modesty."

"I need it much more than you do," the Senator laughed.

Straightway I left them with an awkward bow and blushing to the roots of
my hair. A number of boys and girls stood under the shade trees opposite
looking across at the President. In my embarrassment I did not identify
any one in the group. Numbers of men and women were passing the house
and, as they did so, taking "a good look," in their way of speaking at
the two great men. Not before had I seen so many people walking
about--many in their best clothes.

As I neared the home of Mr. Hacket I heard hurrying footsteps behind me
and the voice of Sally calling my name. I stopped and faced about.

How charming she looked as she walked toward me! I had never seen her
quite so fixed up.

"Bart," she said. "I suppose you're not going to speak to me."

"If you'll speak to me," I answered.

"I love to speak to you," she said. "I've been looking all around for
you. Mother wants you to come over