The next morning the papers contained an account of the proceedings with glaring headlines, the account in the _Trumpet_ being the fullest and most sympathetic and giving a picture of the "great labor-leader, Wringman, the idol of the workingman," who had, by "his courage and character, his loftiness of purpose and singleness of aim, inspired them with courage to rise against the oppression of the grinding corporation which, after oppressing them for years, had attempted by a trick to delude them into an abandonment of the measures to secure, at least, partial justice, just as they were about to wring it from its reluctant hand." It was a description which might have fitted an apostle of righteousness. But what sent my heart down into my boots was the republication of the inserted portion of my article on the delayed train attacking Mr. Leigh. The action of the meeting was stated to be unanimous, and in proof it was mentioned that the only man who opposed it, a young man evidently under the influence of liquor, was promptly flung out. I knew that I was destined to hear more of that confounded article, and I began to cast about as to how I should get around it. Should I go to Eleanor Leigh and make a clean breast of it, or should I leave it to occasion to determine the matter? I finally did the natural thing--I put off the decision. Miss Eleanor Leigh, who had worked hard all the day before despatching baskets to the hundreds of homes which her kind heart had prompted her to fill with cheer, came down to breakfast that morning with her heart full of gratitude and kindness toward all the world. She found her father sitting in his place with the newspapers lying beside him in some disorder and with a curious smile on his face. She divined at once that something had happened. "What is it?" she asked, a little frightened. For answer Mr. Leigh pushed a paper over to her and her eye fell on the headlines: HONEST LABORING MEN RESENT BRAZEN ATTEMPT AT BRIBERY LABOR LEADER'S GREAT APPEAL FOR JUSTICE LABOR DEMANDS ITS DUES "Oh, father!" With a gasp she burst into tears and threw herself in her father's arms. "That is the work of Canter and his partner, McSheen," said Mr. Leigh grimly. It was not the only house in which the sending back of her baskets caused tears. In many a poor little tenement there was sore weeping because of the order--in not a few a turkey had not been known for years. Yet mainly the order was obeyed.