sometimes a little vague in our discussion of principles and issues we
share with our national political leaders an intense interest in
personalities. Prominent citizens "come out" for this candidate or that,
we "spring surprises," and launch new booms, and often, at the last
moment, we are taken off our feet by the circulation of comebacks. I
take a pardonable pride, however, in saying, to the credit of our
democratic institutions that most of the candidates elected are chosen
strictly upon merit.

I shall never forget the afternoon, now more than a year ago, that
Harriet came up the road bearing the news which, beyond a doubt, placed
the present incumbent in office; and has served to keep her there,
despite the efforts in certain quarters, which shall be nameless, to use
that pernicious instrument of radicalism, the recall.

I can always tell when Harriet brings important news. She has a slightly
quicker step, carries her head a little more firmly, and when she speaks
impresses her message upon me with a lowered voice. When Harriet looks
at me severely and drops down an octave I prepare for the worst.

"David," she said, "Mary Starkweather has gone to live in the barn!"

"In the _barn_!"

"In the barn."

I don't know quite why it is, but I dislike being surprised, and do my
best to cover it up, and, besides, I have always liked Mary
Starkweather. So I remarked, as casually as I could: