The Judge was inclined to be impatient of other people's opinions when they clashed with his own, and was always the Sir Oracle of his circle.
The Rev. Spencer Abbott, who was not greatly interested in the questions of state discussed by the other guests, diverted himself in dulcet small-talk with his fair neighbor, the daughter of the house. In spite of an evident desire to please, he was apparently unsuccessful, for Miss Edna showed signs of weariness by an occasional pouting of her delicate lips, and seemed much relieved when the cloth being drawn, enabled her and her aunt, who were the only ladies present, to retire to the drawing-room. Poor Abbott would gladly have joined them, for he was dreadfully bored by Finnegass, who, exalted by wine and in default of any other listener, attached himself to the clergyman, and treated him to choice extracts from stirring leaders, until it was only by steady sips of coffee and a supreme effort of will, that Abbott refrained from lapsing into slumber.
At length Rangle came to the rescue, and merriment prevailed; for that eminent senator, ignoring the weighty topics under discussion, proved a perfect cornucopia of jokes and funny anecdotes, and actually drew a smile from the grim old Judge.
By this time Mr. Mumbie had recovered his self-possession, and grown bold and garrulous. He ventured to occupy a vacant chair next to the ex-President (that had been set apart for John Heath who had not condescended to appear), and informed that dignitary that he (Mumbie) was a much older man than any one would take him for. As the ex-President, on being asked, failed to guess Mr. Mumbie's age, Mr. Mumbie imparted the information, triumphantly adding that Mrs. Mumbie was very much his junior, as he had married late in life. "Here's a knife," continued he, drawing forth the bone-handled jack-knife, "that I have carried steadily, sir, steadily for over fifty years. Now I don't think there are many such instances on record. My local attachments are very strong. It's a peculiarity in our family which—"
"Between ourselves, and what is said here will of course go no farther," said Mr. Heath, with a sharp glance at Mr. Mumbie, "had we not better take some preliminary steps at once, in regard to the matter we have been discussing? I think we are all of one opinion on the subject. With your permission, Judge, I would suggest that you and Senator Rangle should by all means go as delegates from this State. Our friend Mr. —— ought of course to represent New York. Then I have thought that perhaps Crittenden would be of all men the most proper to lead the delegation from his section. In fact, I have already written him on the subject, and will send for a copy of my letter and read it to you."
"Not now, Heath; I'll listen to it some other time," said Judge Hull.
"Very well, I merely wished to show that I have approached him in a cautious way, and in a manner that I do not doubt will meet with your approval. Now, how does the selection of delegates strike you? I mean, of course, as far as I have gone?"
"Well—well. I'll think of it—what liqueur is that?"
The Judge did think of it, and the conference was held, as we all know. The Judge, the ex-Federal dignitary, and Senator Rangle, were all there, and in company with other conservative gentlemen tried to stop the Niagara flood of progress with bulrushes. But the tide that was destined to sweep away the last relic of barbarism in our country, was rising fast, and the conservative brooms that were striving to stem it were flourished in vain.