"It used to be an association of gentlemen up at the state capital, my boy. Today it is--Lord! you know what it is, I guess. But if you don't, just peruse this sacred volume," laughed his friend, sarcastically, producing a small pamphlet. "Looks to me as if you'd be rather out of your element with your colleagues. 'M-m-m! Yes, here is the list. Hunted this up after I heard you were going to stand for your district." The English form of expression was no affectation, for the speaker was far more familiar with political nomenclature abroad than at home. He would have felt it an honor to a man to be called upon to "stand" for his constituency in London, but to "run" for it in New York was far less dignified. Standing gave an idea of repose; running was vulgar. Then, too, the State Legislature did not bear the proportionate relationship to Congress that the Commons did to Parliament, and it was always in connection with that latter body that he had associated the term. "Let me see. One, two, three, four, 'teen 'steen--yes, I thought I was right! Just exactly nineteen of your nearest colleagues are saloon keepers. One used to keep that disorderly house on Prince Street, four are butchers, one was returned because he had won fame as a base-ballist and--but why go further? Here, Martin, I'm trying to convince Avery that it will be a trifle trying on his nerves to hobnob with the new set he's making for. Don't you think it is rather an anti-climax from the Union to the lower house at Albany? Ye gods!" and he laughed, half in scorn and half in real amusement. John Martin had extended his hand for the small pamphlet of statistics. He ran his eye over the list, and then turned an amused face upon Avery. "Think you'll like it?" he asked, dryly. "Or are you taking it as my French friend here says his countrymen take heaven?" "How's that?" queried Avery, smiling. "In broken doses--or not at all?" The French gentleman stood with that poise which belongs to the successful man. He glanced from one to the other and spread his hands to either side. "All Frenchmen desire to go to ze heaven, zhentlemen. Why? Ah, zere air two at-traczions which to effrey French zhentle-man air irresisteble. Ze angels--zey air women--and I suppose zat ze God weal also be an attraction. Ees eet not so?" Every one in the group laughed and he went on gravely on. "I zink zat eet ees true--ees eet not?--zat loafly woman will always be vara much ob-searved even in ze heaven eef we zhentlemen are zere. Eef?" He cast up the comers of his eyes, and made another elaborate movement of his hands. The others all laughed again. "Yes, zhentlemen, ze true Frenchman cares for two zings: a new sensation--someings zey haf not before experienced,--and zat ees God; and for zat which zey haf obsearved, but of which zey can naavear obsearve enough--loafly woman!"