the
Honorable Alva Hopkins, whom we all know and love, has with unparalleled
generosity--unparalleled, I say--bought up three hundred and twelve seats
in Fosters Opera House for to-morrow night" (renewed applause), "in order
that every member of this august body may have the opportunity to witness
that most classic of histrionic productions, 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'." (Loud
applause, causing the Speaker to rap sharply.) "That we may show a proper
appreciation of this compliment--I move you, Mr. Speaker, that the House
adjourn not later than six o'clock to-morrow, Wednesday evening, not to
meet again until Thursday morning."

Mr. Jameson of Wantage handed the resolution to a page and sat down
amidst renewed applause. Mr. Wetherell noticed that many members turned
in their seats as they clapped, and glancing along the gallery he caught
a flash of red and perceived the radiant Miss Cassandra herself leaning
over the rail, her hands clasped in ecstasy. Mr. Lovejoy was not with
her--he evidently preferred to pay his attentions in private.

"There she is again," whispered Cynthia, who had taken an instinctive and
extraordinary dislike to Miss Cassandra. Then Mr. Sutton rose
majestically to put the question.

"Gentlemen, are you ready for the question?" he cried. "All those in
favor of the resolution of the gentleman from Wantage, Mr. Jameson--" the
Speaker stopped abruptly. The legislators in the front seats swung
around, and people in the gallery craned forward to see a member standing
at his seat in the extreme rear of the hall. He was a little man in an
ill-fitting coat, his wizened face clean-shaven save for the broom-shaped
beard under his chin, which he now held in his hand. His thin, nasal
voice was somehow absurdly penetrating as he addressed the chair. Mr.
Sutton was apparently, for once, taken by surprise, and stared a moment,
as though racking his brain for the name.

"The gentleman from Suffolk, Mr. Heath," he said, and smiling a little,
sat down.

The gentleman from Suffolk, still holding on to his beard, pitched in
without preamble.

"We farmers on the back seats don't often get a chance to be heard, Mr.
Speaker," said he, amidst a general tittering from the front seats. "We
come down here without any l'arnin' of parli'ment'ry law, and before we
know what's happened the session's over, and we hain't said nothin'."
(More laughter.) "There's b'en a good many times when I wanted to say
somethin', and this time I