them, and announcing in loud, firm tones that while all five of her
boys belonged to the union she'd be after tellin' them what she
thought of this day's work!

It was a United States Senator who did the awful trick, and, to be
fair, the Senator did not think of it as an awful trick at all. He
came over there in the middle of the morning to see the Governor,
and in a few hurried words--it was no day for conversation--was told
what was going on. It was while standing out in the corridor
watching the perspiring dignitaries that the idea of his duty came
to him, and one reason he was sure he was right was the way in which
it came to him in the light of a duty. Here was America in undress
uniform! Here was--not a thing arranged for show, but absolutely the
thing itself! Prince Ludwig had come with a sincere desire to see
America. Every one knew that he was not seeing it at all. He would
go back with memories of bands and flags and people all dressed up
standing before him making polite speeches. But would he carry back
one small whiff of the spirit of the country? Again Senator Bruner
looked about him. The Speaker of the House was just beginning laying
the stair carpet; a judge of the Supreme Court was contending hotly
for a better hammer. "It's an insult to expect any decent man to
drive tacks with a hammer like this," he was saying. Here were
men--real, live men, men with individuality, spirit. When the Prince
had come so far, wasn't it too bad that he should not see anything
but uniforms and cut glass and dress suits and other externals and
non-essentials? Senator Bruner was a kind man; he was a good fellow;
he was hospitable--patriotic. He decided now in favour of the
Prince.

He had to hurry about it, for it was almost twelve then. One of the