rboard,"
a few ripples, a few tears; the sailing on, with the surface of the
water smooth again and the faces keen and bright.

Woodruff wrote, urging; then he sent telegram after telegram. Still I
procrastinated; for all the effect his letters and telegrams had upon
me, I might as well have left them unopened. My final answer was: "Act
as you would if I were dead."

Probably, what had given my pessimism its somberest tone was the
attitude of the public toward Burbank's high appointments. I had
confidently predicted that filling all the high offices with men who had
no interest but "the interests," men who were notoriously the agents and
servants of the great "campaign contributors," would cause a public
outcry that could not be ignored. The opposition press did make
perfunctory criticisms; but nowhere was there a sign that the people
were really angered.

I got the clue to this mystery from my gardener, who prided himself on
being strenuously of the opposition party. "What do you think of the new
administration?" said I when I came upon him one morning at the
rhododendron beds.

"Much better than I allowed," said he. "Burbank's got good men around
him."

"You approve of his Cabinet?"

"Of course, they're all strong party men. I like a good party man. I
like a man that has convictions and principles, and stands up for 'em."

"Your newspapers say some pretty severe things about those men."

"So I read," said he, "but you know how that is, Mr. Sayler. They've got
to pound 'em to please the party. But nobody believes much he sees in
the newspapers. Whenever I read an item about things I happen to know,
it's all wrong. And I guess they don't get it any nearer right about the
things I don't happen to know. Now, all this here talk of there being so
many millionaires--I don't take no kind of stock in it."

"No?" said I.

"Of course, some's poor and some's rich--that's got to be. But I think
it's all newspaper lies about these here big fortunes and about all the
leading men in politics being corrupt. I know it ain't so about the
leading men in _my_ party, and I reckon there ain't no more truth in it
about the leading men of your'n. I was saying to my wife last night,
'It's all newspaper lies,' says I, 'just like the story they printed
about Mrs. Timmins eloping with Maria Wilmerding's husband, when she had
only went over to Rabbit Forks to visit her married daughter.' No, they
can't fool me--them papers."

"That'