hand and whispering to him softly.

Outside the cathedral a joyous uproar attended the beginning of that
parade which the Mayor had declined to review. As his party was to enjoy
it at some point of Fifth Avenue he did not tarry to witness the
surprising scenes about the church, but with Louis took a car uptown.
Everywhere they heard hearty denunciations of the Mayor. At one street,
their car being detained by the passing of a single division of the
parade, the passengers crowded about the front door and the driver, and
an anxious traveler asked the cause of the delay, and the probable
length of it. The driver looked at him curiously.

"About five minutes," he said. "Don't you know who's paradin' to-day?"

"No."

"See the green plumes an' ribbons?"

"I do," vacantly.

"Know what day o' the month it is?"

"March seventeenth, of course."

"Live near New York?"

"About twenty miles out."

"Gee whiz!" exclaimed the driver with a gasp. "I've bin a-drivin' o'
this car for twenty years, an' I never met anythin' quite so innercent.
Well, it's St. Patrick's Day, an' them's the wild Irish."

The traveler seemed but little enlightened. An emphatic man in black,
with a mouth so wide that its opening suggested the wonderful, seized
the hand of the innocent and shook it cordially.

"I'm glad to meet one uncontaminated American citizen in this city," he
said. "I hope there are millions like you in the land."

The uncontaminated looked puzzled, and might have spoken but for a
violent interruption. A man had entered the car with an orange ribbon in
his buttonhole.

"You'll have to take that off," said the conductor in alarm, pointing to
the ribbon, "or leave the car."

"I won't do either," said the man.

"And I stand by you in that refusal," said the emphatic gentleman. "It's
an outrage that we must submit to the domination of foreigners."

"It's the order of the company," said the conductor. "First thing we
know a wild Irishman comes along, he goes for that orange ribbon,
there's a fight, the women are frightened, and perhaps the car is
smashed."

"An' besides," said the deliberate driver as he tied up his reins and
took off his gloves, "it's a darn sight easier an' cheaper for us to put
you off than to keep an Irishman from tryin' to murder you."

The uncontaminated citizen and two ladies fled to the street, while the
driver and the conductor stood over the offending passenger.

"Goin' to take off the ribbon?"