imself upon the crowd,
and battle his way towards the Honourable Elijah Pogram. Martin, who had
found a snug place of observation in a distant corner, where he
stood with Mark beside him (for he did not so often forget him now
as formerly, though he still did sometimes), thought he knew this
gentleman, but had no doubt of it, when he cried as loud as he could,
with his eyes starting out of his head:
'Sir, Mrs Hominy!'
'Lord bless that woman, Mark. She has turned up again!'
'Here she comes, sir,' answered Mr Tapley. 'Pogram knows her. A public
character! Always got her eye upon her country, sir! If that there
lady's husband is of my opinion, what a jolly old gentleman he must be!'
A lane was made; and Mrs Hominy, with the aristocratic stalk, the pocket
handkerchief, the clasped hands, and the classical cap, came slowly up
it, in a procession of one. Mr Pogram testified emotions of delight on
seeing her, and a general hush prevailed. For it was known that when
a woman like Mrs Hominy encountered a man like Pogram, something
interesting must be said.
Their first salutations were exchanged in a voice too low to reach the
impatient ears of the throng; but they soon became audible, for Mrs
Hominy felt her position, and knew what was expected of her.
Mrs H. was hard upon him at first; and put him through a rigid catechism
in reference to a certain vote he had given, which she had found it
necessary, as the mother of the modern Gracchi, to deprecate in a line
by itself, set up expressly for the purpose in German text. But Mr
Pogram evading it by a well-timed allusion to the star-spangled banner,
which, it appeared, had the remarkable peculiarity of flouting the
breeze whenever it was hoisted where the wind blew, she forgave him.
They now enlarged on certain questions of tariff, commercial treaty,
boundary, importation and exportation with great effect. And Mrs Hominy
not only talked, as the saying is, like a book, but actually did talk
her own books, word for word.
'My! what is this!' cried Mrs Hominy, opening a little note which was
handed her by her excited gentleman-usher. 'Do tell! oh, well, now! on'y
think!'
And then she read aloud, as follows:
'Two literary ladies present their compliments to the mother of the
modern Gracchi, and claim her kind introduction, as their talented
countrywoman, to the honourable (and distinguished) Elijah Pogram, whom
the two L. L.'s have often contemplated in the speaking
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