“Well, the name is immaterial, but these labors, though pocket filling, are brain wearing. And of late I and the rest of our loyal henchmen have been worn out in our labors in tariff revision. You know how we claim to help the common people by the revision; you’ve probable read about it in the papers.” “Yes,” sez I coldly, “I’ve hearn _talk_.” “Yes,” sez he, “but if we do succeed, after the most strenious efforts in getting the duty off champagne, green turtle, olives, etc., and put on to sugar, tea, cotton cloth and such like, with all this brain fag and brain labor—” “And tongue labor!” sez I in a icy axent. “Yes, after all this ceaseless toil the common people will not show any gratitude; we statesmen labor oft with aching hearts.” And he leaned his forward on his hand and sithed. But my looks wuz like ice-suckles on the north side of a barn. And I stopped his complaints and his sithes by askin’ in a voice that demanded a reply: “Can you and will you do Serepta’s errents? Errents full of truth and justice and eternal right?” He said he knew they wuz jest runnin’ over with them qualities, but happy as it would make him to do ’em, he had to refuse owin’ to the fur more important matters he had named, and the many, many other laws and preambles that he hadn’t time to name over to me. “Mebby you have heard,” sez he, “that we are now engaged in making most important laws concerning moth-millers, and minny fish, and hog cholera. And take it with these important bills and the constant strain on our minds in tryin’ to pass laws to increase our own salaries, you can see jest how cramped we are for time. And though we would love to pass some laws of truth and righteousness—we fairly ache to—yet not havin’ the requisite time we are forced to lay ’em on the table or under it.” “Well,” sez I, “I guess I may as well be a-goin’.” And I bid him a cool goodbye and started for the door. But jest as my hand wuz on the nub he jumped up and opened the door, wearin’ that boughten second-hand smile agin on his linement, and sez he: “Dear madam, perhaps Senator B. will do the errents for you.” Sez I, “Where is Senator B.?” And he said I would find him at his Post of Duty at the Capitol. “Well,” I said, “I will hunt up the Post,” and did. A grand enough place for a Emperor or a Zar is the Capitol of our great nation where I found him, a good natured lookin’ boy in buttons showin’ me the Post. VII. “NO HAMPERIN’ HITCHIN’ STRAPS”