s, for the furtherance
of the Liberal interest and the sacred cause of imperialism. Mr
Farquharson, whose experience was longer and whose nose presumably
shorter than the candidate's, never abandoned the Town Ward. Bingham
skirmished between the polling-booths and the committee room. Horace
Williams was out all day--Rawlins edited the paper. The returns wouldn't
be ready in time for anything but an extra anyhow, and the "Stand to
Arms, South Fox," leader had been written two days ago. The rest was
millinery, or might be for all anybody would read of it. The other side
had a better idea of the value of their candidate than to send him into
the country. Walter Winter remained where he was most effective and most
at home. He had a neat little livery outfit, and he seemed to spend the
whole day in it accompanied by intimate personal friends who had never
spoken to him, much less driven with him, before. Two or three strangers
arrived the previous night at the leading hotels. Their business was
various, but they had one point in common: they were very solicitous
about their personal luggage. I should be sorry to assign their
politics, and none of them seemed to know much about the merits of
the candidates, so they are not perhaps very pertinent, except for the
curiosity shown by the public at the spectacle of gentlemen carrying
their own bags when there were porters to do it.

It was a day long remembered and long quoted. The weather was
spring-like, sun after a week's thaw; it was pleasant to be abroad in
the relaxed air and the drying streets, that here and there sent
up threads of steam after the winter house-cleaning of their wooden
sidewalks. Voting was a privilege never unappreciated in Elgin; and
today the weather brought out every soul to the polls; the ladies of
his family waiting, in many instances, on the verandah, with shawls over
their heads, to hear the report of how the fight was going. Abby saw Dr
Harry back in his consulting room, and Dr Henry safely off to vote, and
then took the two children and went over to her father's house because
she simply could not endure the suspense anywhere else. The adventurous
Stella picketed herself at a corner near the empty grocery which served
as a polling-booth for Subdivision Eleven, one of the most doubtful, but
was forced to retire at the sight of the first carryall full of men from
the Milburn Boiler Company flaunting a banner inscribed "We are Solid
for W.W." Met in t