going down The Hole and those filthy places. No votes there. Streets ought to be abolished and the people too."

"Well, we've had a very good meeting in the Masonic Hall," said the agent cheerfully. "Lord Normantowers spoke, and really he got through all right. Told some stories, you know; and they stood it capitally."

"And now," said Owen Hood, slapping his hands together in an almost convivial manner, "what about this torchlight procession?"

"This what procession? "asked the agent.

"Do you mean to tell me," said Hood sternly, "that arrangements are not complete for the torchlight procession of Dr. Hunter? That you are going to let this night of triumph pass without kindling a hundred flames to light the path of the conqueror? Do you realize that the hearts of a whole people have spontaneously stirred and chosen him? That the suffering poor murmured in their sleep 'Vote for Hunter' long before the Caucus came by a providential coincidence to the same conclusion? Would not the people in The Hole set fire to their last poor sticks of furniture to do him honour? Why, from this chair alone———"

He caught up the chair on which Hunter had been sitting and began to break it enthu-