Then the Democrats had their grand procession. The houses were illuminated, the streets were full of shouting children. Even the boys had a small brigade that marched up and down the street. And oh, grief, Jim marched with them!
"I wouldn't be such a turn-coat!" declared the little girl angrily. "I'm ashamed of you, James Underhill. I shall always feel as if you wasn't my brother any more."
"Sho!" returned Jim. "Half the boys turning out have Whig fathers! There wouldn't have been enough for any sort of procession without us. And they promised to cry quits if we would turn out. It don't mean anything but fun!"
She took her trouble to her father. "You are sorry we have been beaten?" she said excitedly.
"Yes, pussy, very sorry. I still think we shall be sorry that Clay isn't President."
"I'm sorry all the time. And when he was so good and splendid, why didn't they put him in?"
"Well, a great many people think Mr. Polk just as splendid."
"Oh, the Democrats!" she commented disdainfully.
"More than half the votes of the country went against our Harry of the West. One side always has to be beaten. It's hard not to belong to the winning side. But we won four years ago, and we did a big lot of crowing, I remember. We shouted ourselves hoarse over the announcement that:
'Tippecanoe and Tyler too!
Were bound to rule the country through.'