ity. In fact, it was in these hours
with the old man, over a pipe and a bit of something, that Johnson was
most nearly cheerful. Hitch after hitch had occurred in his plans, and
day after day he had come home unsuccessful and discouraged. The
crowning disappointment, though, came when, after a long session that
lasted even up into the hot days of summer, Congress adjourned and his
one hope went away. Johnson saw him just before his departure, and
listened ruefully as he said: "I tell you, Cornelius, now, you'd
better go on home, get back to your business and come again next year.
The clouds of battle will be somewhat dispelled by then and we can see
clearer what to do. It was too early this year. We were too near the
fight still, and there were party wounds to be bound up and little
factional sores that had to be healed. But next year, Cornelius, next
year we'll see what we can do for you."

His constituent did not tell him that even if his pride would let him
go back home a disappointed applicant, he had not the means wherewith
to go. He did not tell him that he was trying to keep up appearances
and hide the truth from his wife, who, with their two children, waited
and hoped for him at home.

When he went home that night, Col. Mason saw instantly that things had
gone wrong with him. But here the tact and delicacy of the old
politician came uppermost and, without trying to draw his story from
him--for he already divined the situation too well--he sat for a long
time telling the younger man stories of the ups and downs of men whom
he had known in his long and active life.

They were stories of hardship, deprivation and discouragement. But the
old man told them ever with the touch of cheeriness and the note of
humor that took away the ghastly hopelessness of some of the pictures.
He told them with such feeling and sympathy that Johnson was moved to
frankness and told him his own pitiful tale.

Now that he had some one to whom he could open his heart, Johnson
himself was no less willing to look the matter in the face, and even
during the long summer days, when he had begun to live upon his
wardrobe, piece by piece, he still kept up; although some of his
pomposity went, along with the Prince Albert coat and the shiny hat.
He now wore a shiny coat, and less showy head-gear. For a couple of
weeks, too, he disappeared, and as he returned with some money, it was
fair to presume that he had been at work somewhere, but he cou