our way home grandma remarked with satisfaction that Dawn seemed to
be regarding Eweword sensibly at last, and I seized the opening to
inquire if she were really anxious that the girl should marry him.

"I am if she couldn't get no one better," replied the old lady, and I
considered that this condition saved the situation.

III.

The poll had been taken on a Saturday, and on Monday both the elected
and defeated candidates appeared in Noonoon to return thanks.

The former came into town at the head of a long cortege of vehicles,
and with the red, white, and blue parasols very prominently in
evidence. The streets were hung with bunting, and at night the newly
elected M.P. was lifted into a buggy in which he was drawn through the
streets by youths, at the head of a glorified procession led by a
brass band; and there were not only little boys covered with
electioneering tickets from top to toe and yelling as they marched and
waved flags, but also little girls, now equally with their brothers,
electors to be. More power to them and their emancipation!

It came on to rain, so black umbrellas, big and business-like, went up
by dozens around the three special ones, and became an amusing feature
of the train of miscellaneous people who came to a halt within earshot
of a balcony in the main street. Henderson was carried upstairs on
some enthusiasts' shoulders, and when landed there followed the usual
"gassating" and flattery--the re-elected member being presented with a
gorgeous bouquet of red, white, and blue flowers.

A little farther up the street the Walkerites also held a
"corroboree," where graceful thanks were returned by the Opposition
candidate, who was overloaded with offerings of blue and white violets
and narcissi, and amid great enthusiasm dragged in a buggy to the
railway station.

As they came down the street, though they had the intention of giving
three cheers for the victors as they passed, the rabble could not be
expected to anticipate such nicety of feeling, and some young
irresponsibles attempted to form a barricade across the route.

"Charge!" was then called out by some braw young Walkerites in the
lead, and mild confusion followed.

I was knocked on to the wheel of Leslie Walker's buggy, from whence I
was rescued by an old gentleman, himself minus his pipe and cap, but
good-humouredly laughing--

"My word! aren't the other side dying hard?"

"Take care you and I do not also die hard," I rep