Mr. Pattison accompanied us to Williamsport in the afternoon to see "Sometub" and to join a little reunion with Col. George W. McCardell, the veteran editor of the Williamsport _Leader_. Editor McCardell had been looking for me for eleven years and we were somewhat in doubt as to the outcome of the interview. The reason for his desire to lay hands on me was, as nearly as I can remember, the following paragraph which was printed over my name in the Pittsburgh _Gazette_ in the summer of 1905: The Williamsport Leader is more than a journalistic enterprise--it is a well founded institution. It is the oracle of rockribbed Democracy, the unflinching champion of pure Jeffersonism and unfaltering Andyjacksonism.... The editor will take two pairs of Maryland frying-size chickens on subscription, but of his Virginia subscribers he requires three pairs in advance because, he says, the Maryland pullets are better and more tender. I resolved to meet the editor and finish the argument. Mr. Pattison led the way to a new and prosperously attractive sanctum. It was publication day--Friday--and Col. McCardell, after a strenuous week, stood with folded arms beside an imposing stone with type still wet from the day's "run." My wife, who embodies the traditions of five generations of the editor's brand of politics but who stood ready to defend the quality of Virginia chicken against the world, was the first to enter the den of the journalistic lion. It was a clever ruse on Mr. Pattison's part, for first of all Col. McCardell is a chivalrous southern gentleman. Why, of course, Virginia fried chicken is the finest in the land. And Virginia women compose the very flower of American womanhood. Their presence here is welcomed like the May-time sunshine. The Potomac ripples softly when they cross the river and in the trees on the Maryland shore the summer zephyrs sing sweet benisons to the fair daughters of the Old Dominion. And when I entered the feud of eleven years had vanished. I could only blush and bow my acknowledgements.