elch is the clown, and they left him off easy. The
Party is like the old kings, it keeps a good many fools to make it
laugh."

His tone was threatening, and nobody laughed. General Belch looked as if
he were restraining himself from knocking his friend down. But they all
saw that their host was mastered by his own liquor.

"Squeeze Lawrence Newt, will you? Why, Lord, gentlemen, what do you
suppose he thinks of you--I mean, of fellows like you?" asked Abel.

He paused, and glared around him. William Condor daintily knocked off the
ash of his cigar faith the tip of his little finger, and said, calmly,

"I am sure I don't know."

"Nor care," said General Belch.

"He thinks you're all a set of white-livered sneaks!" shouted Abel, in a
voice harsh and hoarse with liquor.

The gentlemen were silent. The leaders wagged their feet nervously; the
others looked rather amused.

"No offense," resumed Abel. "I don't mean he despises you in particular,
but all bar-room bobtails."

His voice thickened rapidly.

"Of all mean, mis-mis-rabble hounds, he thinks you are the dirt-est."

Still no reply was made. The honorable gentleman looked at his guests
leeringly, but found no responsive glance.

"In vino veritas," whispered Condor to his neighbor Belch. William Condor
was always clean in linen and calm in manner.

"Don't be 'larmed, fel-fel-f'-low cit-zens! Lawrence Newt's no friend of
mine. I guess his G---- d---- pride 'll get a tumble some day; by G---- I
do!" Abel added, with a fierce hiss.

The guests looked alarmed as they heard the last words. Abel ceased, and
passed the decanter, which they did not decline; for they all felt as if
the Honorable Abel Newt would probably throw it at the head of any man
who said or did what he did not approve. There was a low anxious murmur
of conversation among them until Abel was evidently very intoxicated,
and his head sank upon his breast.

"I'm terribly afraid we've burned our fingers," said Mr. Enos Slugby,
looking a little ruefully at the honorable representative.

"Oh, I hope not," said General Belch; "but there may be some breakers
ahead. If we lose the Grant it won't be the first cause or man that has
been betrayed by the bottle. Condor, let me fill your glass. It is clear
that if our dear friend Newt has a weakness it is the bottle; and if our
enemies at Washington, who want to head off this Grant, have a strength,
it is finding out an adversary's soft spot. We may find