he took out a well-worn pocketbook and from its depths abstracted a
soiled card which, leaning forward, he placed carefully upon the table
before Patsy. She glanced at it and read: "Hon. Ojoy Boglin, Hooker's
Falls, Chazy County."

"Oh," said she, rather surprised; "are you Mr. Boglin?"

"I am the Honer'ble Ojoy Boglin, miss," he replied, dwelling lovingly
upon the "Honer'ble."

"I have not had the honor of your acquaintance," said she, deciding she
did not like her visitor. "What is your business, please?"

The Hon. Ojoy coughed. Then he suddenly remembered he was in the
presence of a lady and took off his hat. Next he slid slowly into the
vacant chair at the end of the table.

"First," he began, "I want to compliment you on your new paper. It's a
good thing, and I like it. It's what's been needed in these 'ere parts a
long time, and it's talked about all over Chazy County."

"Thank you," said the editor briefly, for the praise was given in a
perfunctory way that irritated her.

"The only other papers in this senatorial deestric', which covers three
counties," continued the visitor, in impressive tones, "air weeklies,
run by political mud-slingers that's bought up by the Kleppish gang."

"What is the Kleppish gang?" she asked, wonderingly.