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ON POLITICS.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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75

Page 75

ON POLITICS.

As regards these electrical matters,” said Mrs.
Partington, just before election, — she lived on a main
street, and the cheering and noise of parties passing her
door kept her awake o' nights, — “I don't see the use
of making so much fuss about it. Why don't they take
some one and give him their sufferings, if he has n't got
any of his own, and let him be governor till he dies,
just as they do the judges, and arterwards too, as they
sometimes do them, for they might as well be dead, a
good many of 'em? O, this confusion of noise and
hubbub! My poor head aches o' hearing of it, and Isaac
has got sich a cold, looking out of the window at the
possessions without nothing on the head. And then
what critters they all be, to be sure! — their newspapers
are brim full of good resolutions, but ne'eraone of
'em did I ever know 'em to keep. They are always
resolving, like the showman's resolving views, and one
resolution fades away jest as quick as another comes.
If I could have my way, I would” —

“Hooray! here they come!” cried Ike, breaking in
upon the old lady's remarks, and banging his slate on
the floor, and throwing up the window with a vehemence
that broke two squares of glass.

“Hooray!” came up in a big chorus from the street,
filling Mrs. Partington's little chamber, to its utmost
capacity, with “hooray,” the great element of political
life.


76

Page 76

“There they go agin,” cried she, “with their drums
and lanterns, like crazy critters, and keeping folks awake
when they ought to be in the arms of Murphy!”

Ike pulled in his head and dropped the window, and
the good old lady mended the fracture of the glass by a
hat and a pair of pants of Ike's, with the threat of severe
punishment if he ever did so again. But do you suppose
she would have kept it? Ike knew better. When
the glazier came in the next day to mend the window, she
had to tell him the story of how it was broke, but all the
blame was on the politicians.

Don't crowd so, good woman,” said old Roger, at
the Lowell Institute, as he was waiting his turn to give
his name. “Don't crowd so!” and, looking over his
shoulder, he met the reproachful glance of Mrs. Partington
herself, who was there for the same purpose. He
immediately gave way to her, and the next morning
found himself not divisible by 7, nor anything like it.
“So much for politeness!” growled old Roger; “she 'll
get all the Natural Religion now; and much good may
it do her!
” You would have smiled to see the spiteful
manner in which the little man said this.