The old man looked uneasy. "Ain't that a great speech?" he asked.
The two Senators laughed. "Well, it's better than some," said Shattuc. "And few can make a better when he's got a subject worthy of him," he added kindly.
"That's perlite, seein' as you're a Republican. I allow as I'll go.
Good-day, marm. I'll never forgit as how you told me you'd bin all over
Yurrup and that there ain't no modern buildin' so fine as our new
Library. Good-day to ye, sirs."
Senator Shattuc shook him warmly by the hand. Senator North nodded, and Betty gave him a smile which she meant to be cordial but was a trifle absent. She wished that Senator Shattuc would follow him, but he sat down again at once. He, too, felt at home in that gallery, and it had never occurred to him that one Senator might be more welcome there than another. Senator North's face hardened, and Betty, fearing that he would go, said hurriedly,—
"Ar'n't you ever going to speak again? I have heard you only once."
"I rarely make set speeches, although I not infrequently engage in debate—when some measure comes up that needs airing."
"You ought to speak oftener, North," said Senator Shattuc. "You always wake us up."
"You have no business to go to sleep. If I talked when I had nothing to say, you'd soon cease to be waked up. Our friend over there has put three of our esteemed colleagues to sleep. He'll clear the galleries in a moment and interfere with Norris's record.—I suppose you have never seen that memorable sight," he said to Betty: "an entire gallery audience get up and walk out when a certain Senator takes the floor?"
"How very rude!"
"The great American public loves a show, and when the show is not to its taste it has no hesitation in making its displeasure known."