Mr. Crewe had appeared to each of the twenty in a dream, with
a flaming sword pointing to the steam of the dragon's breath. Or,
perhaps, a star had led each of the twenty to Leith. (This likening of
Mr. H--n T--g to a star caused much merriment among that gentleman's
former friends and acquaintances.) The Tribune could not account for this
phenomenon by any natural laws, and was forced to believe that the thing
was a miracle--in which case it behooved the Northeastern Railroads to
read the handwriting on the wall. Unless--unless the twenty did not
exist! Unless the whole thing were a joke! The Tribune remembered a time
when a signed statement, purporting to come from a certain Mrs. Amanda P.
Pillow, of 22 Blair Street, Newcastle, had appeared, to the effect that
three bottles of Rand's Peach Nectar had cured her of dropsy. On
investigation there was no Blair Street, and Mrs. Amanda P. Pillow was as
yet unborn. The one sure thing about the statement was that Rand's Peach
Nectar could be had, in large or small quantities, as desired. And the
Tribune was prepared to state; on its own authority, that a Mr. Humphrey
Crewe did exist, and might reluctantly consent to take the nomination for
the governorship. In industry and zeal he was said to resemble the
celebrated and lamented Mr. Rand, of the Peach Nectar.

Ingratitude merely injures those who are capable of it, although it
sometimes produces sadness in great souls. What were Mr. Crewe's feelings
when he read this drivel? When he perused the extracts from the "Book of
Arguments" which appeared (with astonishing unanimity, too!) in sixty odd
weekly newspapers of the State--an assortment of arguments for each
county.

"Brush Bascom's doin' that work now," said Mr. Tooting, contemptuously,
"and he's doin' it with a shovel. Look here! He's got the same squib in
three towns within a dozen miles of each other, the one beginning
'Political conditions in this State are as clean as those of any State in
the Union, and the United Northeastern Railroads is a corporation which
is, fortunately, above calumny. A summer resident who, to satisfy his
lust for office, is rolling to defame--'"

"Yes," interrupted Mr. Crewe, "never mind reading any more of that rot."

"It's botched," said Mr. Tooting, whose artistic soul was jarred. "I'd
have put that in Avalon County, and Weave, and Marshall. I know men that
take all three of those papers in Putnam."

No need of balloonists to see what t