MR. SMOOTH FINDS HIS PATH TO THE WHITE HOUSE A DIFFICULT ONE.


"'Good morning, Mr. Smooth!' saluted the fat man behind the mahogany,
as I entered the office, having escaped from my perilous position in
the seventh story. In addition, he took a lunar observation all along
down my hull, which he said was a mighty tough sort of craft, and had
received no damage for which the house could be held responsible.

"As if to make the picture more complete, a number of anxious-looking
individuals (all firm friends of Uncle Sam) crowded about me, each
putting some curious question in reference to my expectations and the
Executive and his gifts. Many of these important gentry had
proboscises largely developed and very red; indeed, the reddest nose
was strongest evidence of the best office-seeker; albeit, some
waggishly inclined gentleman had said that the most generously
red-nosed man always esteemed his deserts to be no less than that of
United States Minister at some very fashionable foreign Court, where
the good red of a well-developed nose was significant of pure
blood. 'Well now, gents,' I returned, 'you needn't be trying to poke
your political fun at this citizen! Young America is all right
yet. Put me on the track of Mr. Pierce's whereabouts.' Seeing they
were facetiously inclined, I summoned that independence so necessary
to a citizen of standing. At this moment, one more politely inclined
than the rest, stepped forward, and commenced giving me the ins and
outs of the way to see the Brigadier, who, lie said, was surrounded by
many fairweather courtiers. Stepping politely to the door, he, with
grace not unbecoming, raised a well-gloved hand, and half
whispered:--Mr. Smooth will walk into the avenue--keep on the West