d and hustled under the table; the grandest of railroad
schemes shrunk into waste-paper baskets; in short, the public treasury
was next door to the unapproachable. Such, indeed, was the desperate
condition of lobbyists in this State, that, had it contained a single
philanthropist of the advanced radical stripe, he would surely have
brought in a bill for their relief and encouragement.

Into the midst of this happily divided community dropped Mr. Ananias
Pullwool with the Devil in him. It remains to be seen whether this pair
could figure up anything worth pocketing out of the problem of two
capitals.

It was one of the even years, and the legislature met in Fastburg, and
the little city was brimful. Mr. Pullwool with difficulty found a place
for himself without causing the population to slop over. Of course he
went to a hotel, for he needed to make as many acquaintances as
possible, and he knew that a bar was a perfect hot-house for ripening
such friendships as he cared for. He took the best room he could get;
and as soon as chance favored he took a better one, with parlor
attached; and on the sideboard in the parlor he always had cigars and
decanters. The result was that in a week or so he was on jovial terms
with several senators, numerous members of the lower house, and all the
members of the "third house." But lobbying did not work in Fastburg as
Mr. Pullwool had found it to work in other capitals. He exhibited the
most dazzling double-edged axes, but nobody would grind them; he
pointed out the most attractive and convenient of logs for rolling, but
nobody would put a lever to them.

"What the doose does this mean?" he at last inquired of Mr. Josiah
Dicker, a member who had smoked dozens of his cigars and drunk quarts
out of his decanters. "I don't understand this little old legislature
at all, Mr. Dicker. Nobody wants to make any money; at least, nobody
has the spirit to try to make any. And yet the State is full; never
been bled a drop; full as a tick. What does it mean?"

Mr. Dicker looked disconsolate. Perhaps it may be worth a moment's time
to explain that he could not well look otherwise. Broken in fortune and
broken in health, he was a failure and knew it. His large forehead
showed power, and he was in fact a lawyer of some ability; and still he
could not support his family, could not keep a mould of mortgages from
creeping all over his house-lot, and had so many creditors that he
could not walk the street