present at the christening of the new nation, and now they were going
back to their own Charleston.

"Everything is for the best," said young Langdon, whose unfailing
spirits bubbled to the brim, "we'll have down here the tightest and
finest republic the world ever heard of. New Orleans will be the
biggest city, but our own Charleston will always be the leader, its
center of thought."

"What you need, Tom," said Harry, "is a center of thought yourself.
Don't be so terribly sanguine and you may save yourself some smashes."

"I wouldn't gain anything even then," replied Langdon joyously. "I'll
have such a happy time before the smash comes that I can afford to pay
for it. I'm the kind that enjoys life. It's a pleasure to me just to
breathe."

"I believe it is," said Harry, looking at him with admiration. "I think
I'll call you Happy Tom."

"I take the name with pleasure," said Langdon. "It's a compliment to be
called Happy Tom. Happy I was born and happy I am. I'm so happy I must
sing:

"Ol Dan Tucker was a mighty fine man,
He washed his face in the frying pan,
He combed his hair with a wagon wheel
And died with a toothache in his heel."

"That's a great poem," said a long North Carolina youth named Ransome,