nce. But I do know there's a
sight of little bills on that desk that won't be passed if we don't set
to-morrow night--little bills that are big bills for us farmers. That
thar woodchuck bill, for one." (Laughter.) "My constituents want I
should have that bill passed. We don't need a quorum for them bills, but
we need time. Naow, Mr. Speaker, I say let all them that wants to go and
see 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' go and see it, but let a few of us fellers that
has woodchuck bills and other things that we've got to get through come
down here and pass 'em. You kin put 'em on the docket, and I guess if
anything comes along that hain't jest right for everybody, somebody can
challenge a quorum and bust up the session. That's all."

The gentleman from Suffolk sat down amidst thunderous applause, and
before it died away Mr. Jameson was on his feet, smiling and rubbing his
hands together, and was recognized.

"Mr. Speaker," he said, as soon as he could be heard, "if the gentleman
from Suffolk desires to pass woodchuck bills" (renewed laughter), "he
can do so as far as I'm concerned. I guess I know where most of the
members of this House will be to-morrow night-" (Cries of 'You're
right', and sharp rapping of the gavel.) "Mr. Speaker, I withdraw my
resolution."

"The gentleman from Wantage," said the Speaker, smiling broadly now,
"withdraws his resolution."

As William Wetherell was returning to the Pelican House, pondering over
this incident, he almost ran into a distinguished-looking man walking
briskly across Main Street.

"It was Mr. Worthington!" said Cynthia, looking after him.

But Mr. Worthington had a worried look on his face, and was probably too
much engrossed in his own thoughts to notice his acquaintances. He had,
in fact, just come from the Throne Room, where he had been to remind
Jethro that the session was almost over, and to ask him what he meant to
do about the Truro Bill. Jethro had given him no satisfaction.

"Duncan and Lovejoy have their people paid to sit there night and day,"
Mr. Worthington had said. "We've got a bare majority on a full House;
but you don't seem to dare to risk it. What are you going to do about
it, Mr. Bass?"

"W-want the bill to pass--don't you?"

"Certainly," Mr. Worthington had cried, on the edge of losing his
temper.

"L-left it to me--didn't you?

"Yes, but I'm entitled to know what's being done. I'm paying for it."

"H-hain't paid for it yet--hev you?"

"No, I most assured