ough his whole existence may be an effort to rise out of once class
into another. "Your wife," he told them once, "needs a dress. Let us
admit that the material for the dress is a little cheaper than it was
four years ago, but when she comes to look into the family stocking--"
(Laughter.) "I needn't go on. If we could have things cheaper, and more
money to buy them with, we should all be happy, and the Republican party
could retire from business."

He did not once refer to the United States Senatorship.

It was appropriate, perhaps, that many of us dined on the evening of
election day at the Boyne Club. There was early evidence of a Republican
land-slide. And when, at ten o'clock, it was announced that Mr. Trulease
was re-elected by a majority which exceeded Mr. Grunewald's most hopeful
estimate, that the legislature was "safe," that Theodore Watling would be
the next United States Senator, a scene of jubilation ensued within those
hallowed walls which was unprecedented. Chairs were pushed back, rugs
taken up, Gene Hollister played the piano and a Virginia reel started; in
a burst of enthusiasm Leonard Dickinson ordered champagne for every
member present. The country was returning to its senses. Theodore Watling
had preferred, on this eventful night, to remain quietly at home. But
presently carriages were ordered, and a "delegation" of enthusiastic
friends departed to congratulate him; Dickinson, of course, Grierson,
Fowndes, Ogilvy, and Grunewald. We found Judah B. Tallant there,--in
spite of the fact that it was a busy night for the Era; and Adolf Scherer
himself, in expansive mood, was filling the largest of the library
chairs. Mr. Watling was the least excited of them all; remarkably calm, I
thought, for a man on the verge of realizing his life's high ambition. He
had some old brandy, and a box of cigars he had been saving for an
occasion. He managed to convey to everyone his appreciation of the value
of their cooperation....

It was midnight before Mr. Scherer arose to take his departure. He seized
Mr. Watling's hand, warmly, in both of his own.

"I have never," he said, with a relapse into the German f's, "I have
never had a happier moment in my life, my friend, than when I
congratulate you on your success." His voice shook with emotion. "Alas,
we shall not see so much of you now."

"He'll be on guard, Scherer," said Leonard Dickinson, putting his arm
around my chief.

"Good night, Senator," said Tallant, an