find a word, not a word,
and I was ready and fluent enough in those days, too, I can tell you;
but I stood there filling up, and squeezed his hand and gulped and got
red, like a fool. But he understood. 'I have heard of your loyalty to
Republican principles, Mr. Painter,' says he, in that beautiful voice of
his that was like a violin; and I burst in--I couldn't help it--'It
ain't loyalty to Republican principles, it's to you.' I said that right
out. And he smiled, and said he, 'Well, that's wrong, but it isn't for
me to quarrel with you there, Mr. Painter,' and then they pushed me
along; but twice while the talk was going on I saw him look my way and
caught his eye, and he smiled, and when we were all shaking hands for
good-by he shook hands with a good firm grip, and said he, 'Good-by, Mr.
Painter; I hope we shall meet again.'"

The old man drew a long sigh. "Those few moments paid for everything,"
he said. "I've never seen him since. I've been sick and lost money. I
ain't the man I was. I never shall be put on any delegation again, or be
sent to any convention; but I thought if I could only go once more to a
Republican convention and hear them holler for Blaine, and holler once
more myself, I'd be willinger to die. And I told Tom Hale that, and he
and Jenny raised the money. Yes, Jenny, I'm going to tell--he and Jenny
put off being married a bit so's I could go, and go on plenty of money.
Jenny, she worked a month longer to have plenty, and Tom, he slipped ten
dollars into my hand unbeknown to her, jest as we were going, so I'd
always have a dime to give the waiter or the porter. I was never one of
these hayseed farmers, too stingy to give a colored boy a dime when he'd
done his best. I didn't need no money for badges; I got my old
badges--see!"

He pushed out the lapel of his coat, covered with old-fashioned frayed
bits of tinsel and ribbon, smiling confidently. The girl had flushed
crimson to the rim of her white collar; but there was not a trace of
petulance in her air; and, all at once looking at him, her eyes filled
with tears.

"Tom's an awful good fellow," he said, "an awful good fellow."

"I'm sure of that," said the Canton man, with the frank American
friendliness, making a little bow in Miss Jenny's direction; "but see
here, Mr. Painter, do you come from Izard? Are you the man that saved
the county for the Republicans by mortgaging his farm and then going on
a house-to-house canvass?"

"That's me," the