As Dr. Nesbit sat reading the items above set forth upon the broad new veranda of the residence that he was so proud to call his home, he smiled. It was late afternoon. He had done a hard day's work--some of it among the sick, some of it among the needy--the needy in the Doctor's bright lexicon being those who tried to persuade him that they needed political offices. "I cheer up the sick, encourage the needy, pray for 'em both, and sometimes for their own good have to lie to 'em all," he used to say in that day when the duties of his profession and the care of his station as a ruling boss in politics were oppressing him. Dr. Nesbit played politics as a game. But he played always to win. "Old Linen Pants is a bland old scoundrel," declared Public Opinion, about the corridors of the political hotel at the capital. "But he is as ruthless as iron, as smooth as oil, and as bitter as poison when he sets his head on a proposition. Buy?--he buys men in all the ways the devil teaches them to sell--offices, power, honor, cash in hand, promises, prestige--anything that a man wants, Old Linen Pants will trade for, and then get that man. Humorous old devil, too," quoth Public Opinion. "Laughs, quotes scripture, throws in a little Greek philosophy, and knows all the new stories, but never forgets whose play it is, nor what cards are out." Thus was he known to others. But as he remained longer and longer in the game, as his fourth term as state Senator began to lengthen, the game here and there began to lose in his mouth something of its earlier savor. That afternoon as he sat on the veranda overlooking the lawn shaded by the elm trees of his greatest pride, Dr. Nesbit was discoursing to Mrs. Nesbit, who was sewing and paid little heed to his animadversions; it was a soliloquy rather than a conversation--a soliloquy accompanied by an obligate of general mental disagreement from the wife of his bosom, who expressed herself in sniffs and snorts and scornful staccato interjections as the soliloquy ran on. Here are a few bars of it transcribed for beginners: From the Doctor's solo: "Heigh-ho--ho hum--Two United States Senators, one slightly damaged Governor, marked down, five congressmen and three liars, one supreme court justice, also a liar, a working interest in a second, and a slight equity in a third; organization of the Senate, speaker of the house,--forty liars and thirty thieves--that's my political assets, my dear." "I wish you'd quit politics, Doctor, and attend to your practice," this by way of accompaniment from Mrs. Nesbit. The Doctor was in a playful and facetious mood that pleasant afternoon.