heard it in Kilbourn City:

"Hurrah for Garfield! Now lemme go!"

Though endowed with more than ordinary eloquence, no remarks that he had
ever made before brought the applause that this did. Everybody yelled, and
the woman smiled as pleasantly as though she had not crushed the young
life out of her victim, and left him a bleeding sacrifice on the altar of
his country, but when she had realized what she had done her heart smote
her, and she felt bad.

[Illustration: "YELL, OR GO DOWN!"]

Chapin will never be himself again. From that moment his proud spirit was
broken, and all during the picnic he seemed to have lost his cud. He
leaned listlessly against a tree, pale as death, and fanned himself with a
skimmer. When the party had spread the lunch on the ground and gathered
around, sitting on the ant-hills, he sat down with them mechanically, but
his appetite was gone, and when that is gone there is not enough
of him left for a quorum.

Friends rallied around him, passed the pickles, and drove the antmires out
of a sandwich, and handed it to him on a piece of shingle, but he either
passed or turned it down. He said he couldn't take a trick. Later on, when
the lemonade was brought on, the flies were skimmed off of some of it, and
a little colored water was put in to make it look inviting, but his eyes
were sot. He said they couldn't fool him. After what had occurred, he
didn't feel as though any Democrat was safe. He expected to be poisoned on
account of his politics, and all he asked was to live to get home.