“Mr. Moderator. I want to congratulate Deacon Surface on making the most eloquent speech I have ever heard in this hall. Among all the facts which he gave us, it is strange that he overlooked one fact—one cold, scientific truth—bearing on the question.�
“What is it?� asked a hundred voices. Even Deacon Surface arose, turned toward Uncle Jerry, and joined in the question. Then, when you could have heard a pin drop, and the silence was becoming oppressive, the piping voice said:—
“One cold, scientific fact, Mr. Moderator, just as true as the facts he gave us,—the moon is made of green cheese, Mr. Moderator.�
Deacon Surface collapsed with his bubble argument, while the audience went wild. But the sewer was lost. The employees of Zechariah and David Baldwin, in a matter involving so large an outlay, dared not openly vote against their masters.
Not until we have the secret ballot for measures, as well as for men, will there be political freedom in Massachusetts towns.
CHAPTER VIII.
JOHN WYCLIFF’S den had become well known as a resort for workingmen, and people in other walks of life were occasionally to be found in consultation with him. Ford Hulbert, a real estate and insurance agent, was an occasional caller.
“You knew Wells Boardman, who was recently killed in an accident on the Papyrus Electric Street Railway?� asked Hulbert.
“Yes, very well; an old neighbor when we lived out in the country. His daughter, Lena, was one of the best girls I ever met. Her laugh would do one more good than medicine sometimes. A half hour with her was a sure cure for the blues.�
“I don’t need to tell you much about her, then.�