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Bertha did not know until a month after, when Leo Vesschi found her at the restaurant and told her, that out in the new pest-house, that other songster and prisoner, the gay little chestnut vender, Pietro Tobigli, had called lamentably upon the name of his God and upon "Libra Ogostine," and now lay still forever, with the corduroy waistcoat and its precious burden tightly clenched to his breast.
Ahaha! du libra Ogostine, Nees coma ross!" Then the eager eyes found their pleasure, for there, in the last line of Pixley's pirates, the very tail of the procession, danced Pietro Tobigli, waving his pink torch at her, proud, happy, triumphant, a true Republican, believing all company equal in the republic, and the rear rank as good as the first. "Vote a Republican!" he shouted.
Fzzz! Boum! Eh?" The politician responded to Toby's extravagantly friendly laughter with some mechanical cachinnations which, like an obliging salesman, he turned on and off with no effort. "Not by a dern sight!" he answered. "The campaign ain't begun yet." "Champagne?" inquired Tobigli politely. "Campaign, campaign," explained Pixley. "Not much champagne in yours!" he chuckled beneath his breath.
"Toby," she said tearfully; "Toby, you voik hart, und safe your money?" "You help?" he whispered. "I help you!" she cried loudly. Then, with a sudden fit of sobbing, she flung open the gate and ran at the top of her speed into the house. Halcyon the days for Pietro Tobigli, extravagant the jocularity of this betrothed one.
She saved her own money with German persistence, and on Christmas day her present to her betrothed, in return for a coral pin, was a pair of rubber boots filled with little cakes. Elysium was the dwelling-place of Pietro Tobigli, though, apparently, he abode in a horrible slum cellar with Leo Vesschi and the five Latti brothers. In this place our purveyor of sweetmeats was the only light.
"Blame lucky to git Chicago bowl!" "What is that, that campaign?" "Why why, it's the campaign. Workin' up public sentiment; gittin' you boys in line, 'lect-ioneerin' fixin' it right." Tobigli shook his head. "Campaign?" he repeated. "Why Gee, you know! Free beer, cigars, speakin', handshaking, paradin' " "Ahaha!" The merchant sprang to his feet with a shout. "Yes! Hoor-r-ra! Vote a Republican!
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