Aminadab thought of the little iron soldier of his dream, and excused
himself. Presently a bank director came tearing into his office.

"Have you voted yet, Mr. Ivison? It 's time to get your vote in. I
wonder you should be in your office now. No business has so much at
stake in this election as yours."

"I don't think I should feel entirely easy to vote for the candidate,"
said Aminadab.

"Mr. Ivison," said the bank director, "I always took you to be a shrewd,
sensible man, taking men and things as they are. The candidate may not
be all you could wish for; but when the question is between him and a
worse man, the best you can do is to choose the least of the two evils."

"Just so the little iron man said," thought Aminadab. "'Get thee behind
me, Satan!' No, neighbor Discount," said he, "I've made up my mind. I
see no warrant for choosing evil at all. I can't vote for that man."

"Very well," said the director, starting to leave the room; "you can do
as you please; but if we are defeated through the ill-timed scruples of
yourself and others, and your business pinches in consequence, you need
n't expect us to help men who won't help themselves. Good day, sir."

Aminadab sighed heavily, and his heart sank within him; but he thought
of his dream, and remained steadfast. Presently he heard heavy steps
and the tapping of a cane on the stairs; and as the door opened he saw
the drab surtout of the worthy and much-esteemed friend who sat beside
him at the head of the meeting.