of
mind, sat on it. We have it, from a malicious and untrustworthy source,
that the Northeastern Railroads paid for a new one.

"Here, here," cried the Speaker, "make the memorandum here."

At this critical juncture a fortunate diversion occurred. A rap--three
times--of no uncertain quality was heard at the door, and Mr. Brush
Bascom hastened to open it. A voice cried out:--"Is Manning here? The
boys are hollering for those passes," and a wiry, sallow gentleman burst
in, none other than the Honourable Elisha Jane, who was taking his
consular vacation. When his eyes fell upon Mr. Crewe he halted abruptly,
looked a little foolish, and gave a questioning glance at the Honourable
Hilary.

"Mountain passes, Lish? Sit down. Did I ever tell you that story about
the slide in Rickets Gulch?" asked the Honourable Brush Bascom. But
first let me make you acquainted with Mr. Humphrey Crewe of Leith. Mr.
Crewe has come down here with the finest lot of bills you ever saw, and
we're all going to take hold and put 'em through. Here, Lish, I'll give
you a set."

"Read 'em, Mr. Jane," urged Mr. Crewe. "I don't claim much for 'em, but
perhaps they will help to set a few little matters right--I hope so."

Mr. Jane opened the bills with deliberation, and cast his eyes over the
headings.

"I'll read 'em this very night, Mr. Crewe," he said solemnly; "this
meeting you is a particular pleasure, and I have heard in many quarters
of these measures."

"Well," admitted Mr. Crewe, "they may help some. I have a few other
matters to attend to this evening, so I must say good-night, gentlemen.
Don't let me interfere with those I mountain passes, Mr. Manning."

With this parting remark, which proved him to be not merely an idealist
in politics, but a practical man, Mr. Crewe took his leave. And he was
too much occupied with his own thoughts to pay any attention to the click
of the key as it turned in the lock, or to hear United States Senator
Whitredge rap (three times) on the door after he had turned the corner,
or to know that presently the sliding doors into the governor's bridal
suite--were to open a trifle, large enough for the admission of the body
of the Honourable Asa P. Gray.

Number Seven still keeps up its reputation as the seat of benevolence,
and great public benefactors still meet there to discuss the welfare of
their fellow-men: the hallowed council chamber now of an empire, seat of
the Governor-general of the State, the Hono