sorry for him.'' And so was I.

An hour later we struck the river, and
another hour upstream brought us to where
the contest of tongues was to come about.
No sylvan dell in Arcady could have
been lovelier than the spot. Above the
road, a big spring poured a clear little
stream over shining pebbles into the river;
above it the bushes hung thick with autumn
leaves, and above them stood yellow
beeches like pillars of pale fire. On both
sides of the road sat and squatted the
honest voters, sour-looking, disgruntled--a
distinctly hostile crowd. The Blight and
my little sister drew great and curious
attention as they sat on a bowlder above the
spring while I went with the Hon. Samuel
Budd under the guidance of Uncle Tommie
Hendricks, who introduced him right
and left. The Hon. Samuel was cheery,
but he was plainly nervous. There were
two lanky youths whose names, oddly
enough, were Budd. As they gave him
their huge paws in lifeless fashion, the
Hon. Samuel slapped one on the shoulder,
with the true democracy of the politician,
and said jocosely:

``Well, we Budds may not be what you