ortheastern
Railroads. It was a poor joke at best.

It is needless to say that the gentleman referred to had a back seat
among the submerged four hundred and seventy,--and that he kept it. No
discerning and powerful well-wishers came forward and said to him,
"Friend, go up higher." He sat, doubled up, in number, and the gods gave
him compensation in laughter; he disturbed the Solons around him, who
were interested in what was going on in front, and trying to do their
duty to their constituents by learning parliamentary procedure before the
Speaker got his gold watch and shed tears over it.

The gentleman who laughed and died is forgotten, as he deserves to be,
and it never occurred to anybody that he might have been a philosopher,
after all. There is something irresistibly funny about predestination;
about men who are striving and learning and soberly voting upon measures
with which they have as little to do as guinea-pigs. There were certain
wise and cynical atheists who did not attend the sessions at all except
when they received mysterious hints to do so. These were chiefly from
Newcastle. And there were others who played poker in the state-house
cellar waiting for the Word to come to them, when they went up and voted
(prudently counting their chips before they did so), and descended again.
The man with a sense of humour laughed at these, too, and at the twenty
blackbirds in the Senate,--but not so heartily. He laughed at their
gravity, for no gravity can equal that of gentlemen who play with stacked
cards.

The risible gentleman laughed at the proposed legislation, about which he
made the song, and he likened it to a stream that rises hopefully in the
mountains, and takes its way singing at the prospect of reaching the
ocean, but presently flows into a hole in the ground to fill the
forgotten caverns of the earth, and is lost to the knowledge and sight of
man. The caverns he labelled respectively Appropriations, Railroad,
Judiciary, and their guardians were unmistakably the Honourables Messrs.
Bascom, Botcher, and Ridout. The greatest cavern of all he called "The
Senate."

If you listen, you can hear the music of the stream of bills as it is
rising hopefully and flowing now: "Mr. Crewe of Leith gives notice that
on to-morrow or some subsequent day he will introduce a bill entitled,
'An act for the Improvement of the State Highways.' Mr. Crewe of Leith
gives notice, etc. 'An act for the Improvement of the Practic