Here's your wine!" said the orator, forcing a basket upon me. "I don't know what we'd have done without you and your mother." A flash of indignation crossed Mrs. Brewton's face, but changed to a smile. "You've forgot to name my girls!" exclaimed Shot-gun, suddenly finding his voice. "Suppose you try that," said Mrs. Brewton to me, a trifle viciously. "Thank you," I said to Smith. "Thank you.
"But the manna-feds has had their turn." "Sure indeed they've been recognized," and so forth, while I was glad to retire to the voting table. The music paused for me, and as the crowd cheered my small speech, some one said, "And now what are you going to do about me?" It was Bosco Grady back again, and close behind him Cuba. They had escaped from Mrs. Brewton's eye and had got me alone.