'They're an untouched primitive community, with all the old ideas.'

'Sewing-machines and maypole-dances? Cooking on coal-gas stoves,
lighting pipes with matches, and driving horses? Gerolstein tried that
last year. An absolute blow-out!'

De Forest plugged him wrathfully, and poured out the story of our doings
for the last twenty-four hours on the top-note.

'And they do it _all_ in public,' he concluded. 'You can't stop 'em. The
more public, the better they are pleased. They'll talk for hours--like
you! Now you can come in again!'

'Do you really mean they know how to vote?' said Vincent. 'Can they act
it?'

'Act? It's their life to 'em! And you never saw such faces! Scarred
like volcanoes. Envy, hatred, and malice in plain sight. Wonderfully
flexible voices. They weep, too.'

'Aloud? In public?'

'I guarantee. Not a spark of shame or reticence in the entire
installation. It's the chance of your career.'

'D'you say you've brought their voting props along--those papers and
ballot-box things?'

'No, confound you! I'm not a luggage-lifter. Apply direct to the Mayor