e meant it. It did not occur to him that this oath was a
shuffling and indefinite obligation. The room seemed to grow a little
dimmer as he stood there; the lofty ceiling, rich in its colors, grand
and spacious to him, seemed to gather new majesty, just as his office
as lawmaker gathered a vast and sacred significance.

But as he came back to his seat, he heard a couple of old members
laugh. "Comin' down to save their country. They'll learn to save their
bacon before their term is up. That young feller looks like one of
those retrenchment and reform cusses, one of the fellers who never want
to adjourn--down here for business, ye know."

Their laughter made Bradley turn hot with indignation.

The selection of seats was the next great feature. The names of all the
members were written upon slips of paper and shaken together in a box,
while the members stood laughing and talking in the back part of the
house. A blind-folded messenger boy selected the slips; and as the
clerk read, in a sounding voice, the name on each slip, the
representative so called went forward and selected his seat.

Bradley's name was called about the tenth, and he went forward timidly,
and took a seat directly in the centre of the House. He did not care to
seem anxious for a front seat. The Democratic members looked at him
closely, and he stepped out of his obscurity as he went forward.

A young man of about his own age, a stalwart fellow, reached about and
shook hands. "My name is Nelson Floyd. I wanted to see you."

Floyd took the first opportunity to introduce him to two or three of
the Democratic members, but he sat quietly in his seat during the whole
session, and took very little interest in the speakership contest,
which seemed to go off very smoothly. He believed the speaker
implicitly, when he stated the usual lie about having no pledges to
redeem, and that he was free to choose his committee with regard only
to superior fitness, etc., and was shocked when Floyd told him that a
written contract had been drawn up and signed, before the legislature
met, wherein the principal clerkships had been disposed of to party
advantage. It was his second introduction to the hypocrisy of
officialism.

If he had been neglected before, he was not now; all sorts of people
came about him with axes to grind.

"Is this Mr. Talcott? Ah, yes! I have heard of your splendid
canvass--splendid canvass! Now--ahem!--I'd like you to speak a good
word for my gir