"Why do they not deal with them, then? Seven million church member
voters in this country! Why do not they focus their religion and do
something? I divine a reason. While they live all the rest of the year
with prayers and resolutions, they go out on a moral debauch on election
day with a disreputable individual known as Party."

The judge stroked his beard and smiled. Then he turned again to his
paper. "No need," he said, complacently, "for a better party than what
we have. Listen!" and again he read the measure that had so pleased him.
"Is it not splendid, and so plainly worded that a wayfaring man, though
a fool or a third-rate lawyer, cannot mistake the meaning of it. Now
watch the machinery work. We shall have 'father's boy' back cheering for
the grand old party yet," and the judge placed his hand fondly on
Jean's shoulder.

"I'll keep my eye on the 'machine,'" answered Jean, playfully, "but I am
woefully afraid it is punctured, though I wouldn't mention it for
anything."

[Illustration: "_Vote for Whisky, Boys!_"]

CHAPTER V.

LESSONS OF AN ELECTION DAY.

It was the municipal election day. Judge Thorn was alone in his office.
He sat at his desk, which was piled with papers which he was busy
sorting. The door opened and Miss Thorn entered. The judge looked over
his shoulder. "You are a bit late," he said.

Jean looked at her watch.

"A trifle," she answered, "but I have always wanted to know what sort of
people run our government, and I have been out satisfying my curiosity.
I have been to the polls."

"To the polls," echoed the judge, sharply, whirling around from his desk
with a sudden movement that scattered his papers over the floor.

"That is what I said, father. I have been to the polls; and worse, I
took an active part in the proceedings by offering the voters 'no
license' tickets."

"Jean, I must say you have overstepped the bounds of all propriety. You
are a young lady who has been allowed a good many privileges, but this
is carrying things a little too far," said the judge, almost hotly.

"You were there this morning, I believe, father," Jean answered,
coolly.

"I believe I was, but that is no reason you should go. It is no fit
place for a decent woman."

"I will admit that, father, and I will go a little further and say it is
no fit place for a decent man either."

"Men have grown used to such sights and sounds as are seen and heard
around a polling place."

"I suppose s