hy, this beef had a taste of chickens, and oysters, and
baked pork about it, so strong that you couldn't at first tell which it
was, or if its birthplace was a barn-yard, a hen-coop, or the salt sea
ocean.

Yes, there _is_ mission work in these subterranean kitchens. Still, if
members of Congress know how to wash and whitewash so well, they might
take the cooking in hand too. Perhaps they have, though.

When men try a hand at woman's work, or women take up the business of
men, it's apt to mix things up till you don't know which is which. I
rather think the members have been down here, while the women were
lecturing on politics upstairs. It looks like it, in both places.

Well, I didn't want to find too much fault. Human nature could not stand
the pork and beans, but I tried my best to put up with the beef, and
make believe it was delicious.

Just as I took up my knife the other young fellow came to the table, and
set some dishes down before the gentleman. Then he took a knife and
hacked away at a long-necked bottle till he got the cork loose, and let
the whole affair, foaming and sparkling, into a glass. The sight fairly
made my eyes sparkle, for I was awful thirsty, and the rich gurgle made
me more so.

"Sir," says I, a-holding out my glass to the young man, "if that's
Vermont cider, and I seem to feel as if it is, I'll thank you for a
glass."

The gentleman looked up quickly; turned to the young man with a funny
sort of a smile, and nodded his head, just as if it was anything to him.

I'm not quite certain about it, but if that foaming stuff was cider, it
must have been made from russet apples, for it brightened me up all over
till every drop of blood in me seemed to sparkle.

"It would be near about impossible to drink that through a straw, it
bubbles so," says I, feeling it my duty to be sociable, and make the
gentleman feel quite at home at the national table. "I think the cider
is about the only thing that don't degenerate when it leaves New
England."

"The cider," says he, opening his eyes wide.

"Yes," says I, holding out my glass again, "that keeps its own vim, and
a little more so. Take another glass yourself, sir!"

I thought as I was first at the table, and a lady, that he would expect
a little extra attention, and gave it with my usual bland politeness.

He smiled, and his eyes began to sparkle under the gold glasses he wore.

"Certainly," says he, "you are very kind; from Vermont I think you