speech--but better where other talking is going on. Thus: "We missed
you at the Natural History Society, Ingham." Ingham replies: "I am
very gligloglum, that is, that you were m-m-m-m-m." By gradually
dropping the voice, the interlocutor is compelled to supply the
answer. "Mrs. Ingham, I hope your friend Augusta is better." Augusta
has not been ill. Polly cannot think of explaining, however, and
answers: "Thank you, ma'am; she is very rearason wewahwewob," in lower
and lower tones. And Mrs. Throckmorton, who forgot the subject of
which she spoke, as soon as she asked the question, is quite
satisfied. Dennis could see into the card-room, and came to Polly to
ask if he might not go and play all-fours. But, of course, she sternly
refused. At midnight they came home delightedly: Polly, as I said,
wild to tell me the story of victory; only both the pretty Walton
girls said: "Cousin Frederic, you did not come near me all the
evening."

We always called him Dennis at home, for convenience, though his real
name was Frederic Ingham, as I have explained. When the election day
came round, however, I found that by some accident there was only one
Frederic Ingham's name on the voting-list; and, as I was quite busy
that day in writing some foreign letters to Halle, I thought I would
forego my privilege of suffrage, and stay quietly at home, telling
Dennis that he might use the record on the voting-list and vote. I
gave him a ticket, which I told him he might use, if he liked to. That
was that very sharp election in Maine which the readers of _The
Atlantic_ so well remember, and it had been intimated in public that
the ministers would do well not to appear at the polls. Of course,
after that, we had to appear by self or proxy. Still, Naguadavick was
not then a city, and this standing in a double queue at townmeeting
several hours to vote was a bore of the first water; and so, when I