the roads become something better than troughs of
mud than the would-be Assemblyman set actively to work for
his canvass of the county, daily riding forth to make personal
calls on the free and enlightened electors, in accordance with
the still universal British custom of personal solicitation. What
he saw and heard did not tend to improve his temper, for
the news that the Parliament was about to vote an extension
to the whole country of the punitive measures hitherto directed
against Massachusetts had lighted a flame from one end of
the land to the other. The last election had been with difficulty
carried by the squire, and now the prospect was far
more gloomy.

When a realising sense of the conditions had duly dawned
on the not over-quick mind of the master of Greenwood, he
put pride in his pocket and himself astride of Joggles, and
rode of an afternoon to Boxley, as the Hennions' place was
named. Without allusion to their last interview, he announced
to the senior of the house that he wished to talk over the
election.

"He, he, he!" snickered Hennion. "Kinder gettin' anxious,
heigh? I calkerlated yer 'd find things sorter pukish."

"Tush!" retorted Meredith, making a good pretence of
confidence. "'T is mostly wind one hears, and 't will be another
matter at the poll. I rid over to say that tho' we
may not agree in private matters, 't is the business of the
gentry to make head together against this madness."