heque, and paid
her a fine compliment.

"I wish you well wherever you go, for I never saw another young
woman--unless it was meself when I was young--who could lick you at
anythink."

Carry's departure put the cap on our quietude at Clay's, but soon a
movement transpired to stir the stagnation.

The out-voted electors of Noonoon were so galled by their defeat that
they ignored the British law under which it was their boast to live,
and refused to acknowledge that the man who had been voted in by the
majority was constitutionally their representative in parliament. They
also failed to see that he would serve the purpose quite as well as
the other man, and to publish their sentiments more fully, determined
to tender Leslie Walker a complimentary entertainment of some kind,
and present him with a piece of plate, not as the other side had it,
in token of his defeat, but owing to the fact that he was actually the
representative of Noonoon town, having in that place polled higher
than his opponent. The presentation took the shape of a silver
epergne. This to a man who probably did not know what to do with those
he already possessed, a wealthy stranger who had contested the
electorate for his own glory! Had he been a struggling townsman, who,
at a loss to his business, had put up in hopes of benefiting his
country, to have paid his expenses might have shown a commendable
spirit, but this was such a pure and simple example of greasing the
fatted sow, that even those who had supported him openly rebelled,
Grandma Clay among them.

"Well, that's the way women crawl to a man because he's got a smooth
tongue and a little polish," sneered Uncle Jake.

"And some of the men hadn't gumption to get the proper right to vote
for their man who flew the publican's flag and truckled to the
tag-rag," chuckled grandma, who was delighted to prove that this
illustration of crawl had originated with the men.

Nevertheless it was decided to present the epergne at a select concert
or musical evening, with Mr and Mrs Leslie Walker sitting on the
platform, where the audience could gloat upon them. Dawn was asked to
contribute to the programme, and relieved her feelings to me
forthwith.

"The silly, crawling, ignorant fools!" she exclaimed. "The first item
on the programme is a solo by Miss Clay!!!" says the chairman, "and
I'll come forward and squark. 'Next item, a recitation by Mrs
Thing-amebob.' Can't you just imagine it?" she said in ini