I asked Sally, and I spoke out kinder loud too,—I hain't one of the underhanded kind,—I asked her, “If she s'posed they'd let us take hold and make a little money for ourselves, they seemed to be so runnin' over with it, there.”
And she said, “No, private citizens couldn't do that.”
Says I, “Who can?”
She kinder whispered back in a skairt way, sunthin' about “speculators and legislators and rings, and etcetery.”
But I answered right out loud,—I hain't one to go whisperin' round,—and says I,—
“I'll bet if Uncle Sam himself was here, and knew the feelin's I had for him, he'd hand out a few dollars of his own accord for me to get sunthin' to remember him by. Howsumever, I don't need nor want any of his money. I hain't beholden to him nor any man. I have got over fourteen dollars by me, at this present time, egg-money.”
But it was a sight to behold, to see 'em make it.
And then, as we stood out on the sidewalk agin, the Smithsonian Institute passed through my mind; and then the Corcoran Art Gallery passed through it, and several other big, noble buildin's. But I let 'em pass; and I says to Sally,—
“Let us go at once and see the man that makes the public schools.” Says I, “There is a man that I honor, and almost love.”
And she said she didn't know who it wuz.