"The question before the house is the street-car passes," thundered
Bluhm. "I move that we at least thank them for their offer. When a cup
of tea is passed me, I thank the giver: when the biscuits are handed,
I do likewise. It is a simple matter of courtesy."

"I deny it," said the black-browed female with a tone of tragedy.
"What substantial tea has been offered? what biscuits have been baked?
It is not tea: it is bribery! It is not biscuits: it is corruption!"

"I second Herr Bluhm's motion."

"Miss Chairman, put the question on its passage."

A mild old Quakeress rose, thus called on: "Thee has made a motion,
Friend Bluhm, and Sister Carr says she seconds it; so it seems to
me--Indeed I don't understand this parliamentary work."

"You're doing very nicely."

"All right!" called out several voices.

"Why should we have these trivial parliamentary forms?" demanded the
Tragic Muse, as McCall called her. "Away with all worn-out garments of
a degraded Past! Shall the rebellious serf of man still wear his old
clothes?"

"But," whispered McCall to Bluhm, "when will the great thinkers you
talked of begin to speak on those mighty truths--"

"Patience! These are our great thinkers. The logical heads some