as the champion of the Clerical-National-Conservative party, stood in
opposition to the champion of the Panslavonic-Liberal-Reform party, and
you may believe that we did all that was possible to defeat the opposing
faction. My own party emblem was the red feather, that of my adversary
the green feather; the national cockade we sported in common.

At six o'clock p.m. the green feathers were one vote ahead of us. "This
is not to be endured!" shouted my head drummers, and "This is not to be
endured!" was the war-cry of the subordinate drummers. But how could
they help it? The lists were scrutinised again, and it was found that
Tóth János, the potter, had not voted. "Where is Tóth János, the potter?
and why did he not vote?" added my chief drummer. "Beg pardon," said one
of the subalterns, "but the man was buried the other day."

"Well, that was a calamity. Is there no other Tóth János in the village?
The name is rather a common one."

"There is indeed, and he happens to live in the same house with the
deceased, only he is not a voter, as he does not pay taxes; he is only a
poor poultry-dealer. Still he is on the list as a carter, and the thing
could be managed."

Tóth János, the poultry-dealer, was sent for, but his voting in his own
right was out of the question. So the drummers talked with him a long
time, and they had glib tongues, and the aid of the ever-welcome angels.
Tóth János the poultry-dealer, who could not vote in his own name, voted
as Tóth János, the potter, but he had a great sacrifice to make. The
deceased potter was nick-named the "gap-toothed," because he had lost
his front teeth in a brawl. Now the poultry-dealer's front teeth were as
sound as ivory, yet so great and effective were the persuasions of the