the McSorley home so often. Therefore, for these reasons,
Mary sat on the back step, a rank outsider.

The czar, who knew nothing of these things, began to
"goo" as soon as he saw her. Mary reached out her arms.
The czar stumbled into them and Mary fell to kissing his
bald head. She felt more at home with a baby in her arms.

It was at this unfortunate moment that Mr. Ducker and
Mr. Evans came around to the rear of the house. Mr. Evans
was beginning to think rather more favourably of Mr.
Ducker, as the prospective Conservative member. He might
do all right--there are plenty worse--he has no brains--but
that does not matter. What need has a man of brains when
he goes into politics? Brainy men make the trouble. The
Grits made that mistake once, elected a brainy man, and
they have had no peace since.

Mr. Ducker had adroitly drawn the conversation to a
general discussion of children. He knew that Mr. Evans's
weak point was his little son Algernon.

"That's a clever looking little chap of yours, Evans,"
he had remarked carelessly as they came up the street.
(Mr. Ducker had never seen the czar closely.) "My wife
was just saying the other day that he has a wonderful
forehead for a little fellow."

"He has," the other man said smiling, not at all displeased.
"It runs clear down to his neck!"