"Not any today, thank you, Art! All I want is a pair of juicy lamb chops--a dish of onions--a dish of squash--a dish of carrots--a pint of milk--potato-chips--hot biscuits--cold slaw--custard pudding--nuts--raisins----" "_Whoa_, Priscilla! Hop right up on this box! I know that word-slinging ability of old" and as that crowd was fading away, Priscilla said:-- "This is odd work for you, Arthur; _you_ so good a draughtsman. What's up?" And Arthur, a happy, rollicking boy, having always had all such things as most boys had, with a Dad making good pay as a railroad conductor, told sadly of an awful railway smash-up which took "Dad" away from four small Rankin orphans, whom Arthur was now supporting; and a scarcity of jobs in Branton Hills and of trips to surrounding towns, always finding that old sign out: "No Work Today." Of this soap box opportunity bobbing up, which was now bringing in good cash. So our girls found that our Branton Hills boys didn't shirk work of any kind, if brought right up against want. XXII But what about Branton Hills' municipal affairs, right now? In two months it was to ballot on who should sit in past-Councilman Antor's chair; and a campaign was on which was actually sizzling. And in what a contrast to our city's start! For it has grown rapidly; and, in comparison to that day upon which a thousand ballots was a big out-pouring of popular clamor now many politicians had City Hall aspirations. And _who_ do you think was running for Council, now? William Gadsby! Popularly known as Bill! Bill, Branton Hills' famous dandy; Bill, that consummation of all Branton Hills girls' most romantic wish; Bill, that "outdoor part" of Branton Hills' most aristocratic tailor shop! Naturally, opposing groups fought for that vacancy; part of our population clamoring loudly for Bill, but with many just as strongly against him. So it was:-- "Put Bill Gadsby in!! Bill has all our Mayor's good points! Bill will work for all that is upright and good!" And also:-- "_What!_ Bill Gadsby? Is this town plumb crazy? Say! If you put that fop in City Hall you'll find all its railings flapping with pink satin ribbons; a janitor at its main door, squirting vanilla on all who go in; and its front lawn will turn into a pansy farm! Put a _man_ in City Hall, not a sissy who thinks out 'upsy-downsy, insy-outsy' camping suits for girls!" But though this didn't annoy Bill, it _did_ stir up Nancy, with:-- "Oh! That's just an abomination! _Such_ talk about so grand a young chap! But I just saw a billboard with a sign saying: 'Bill Gadsby for Council;' so, probably I shouldn't worry, for Bill is as good as in." "Baby," said Gadsby, kindly, "that's only a billboard, and billboards don't put a man in City Hall. It's _ballots_, darling; _thousands_ of ballots, that fill Council chairs." "But, Daddy, I'm going to root for Bill. I'll stand up on a stump, or in a tip-cart, or----"