Till way along towards night, a senator he had been sent to, bein' a little in liquor at the time, and bein' talkative; he owned up the reasons why the senators wouldn't do the errents. He said they all knew in their own hearts, both of the errents was right and just, to their own souls and their own country. He said--for the liquor had made him _very_ open-hearted and talkative--that they knew the course they was pursuin' in regard to intemperance was a crime against God and their own consciences. But they didn't dare to tackle unpopular subjects. He said they knew they was elected by liquor, a good many of them, and they knew, if they voted against whisky, it would deprive 'em of thousands and thousands of voters, dillegent voters, who would vote for 'em from morn in' till night, and so they dassent tackle the ring. And if wimmen was allowed to vote, they knew it was jest the same thing as breaking the ring right in two, and destroying intemperance. So, though they knew that both the errents was jest as right as right could be, they dassent tackle 'em, for fear they wouldn't run no chance at all of bein' President of the United States. “Good land!” says I. “What a idee! to think that doin' right would make a man unpopular. But,” says I, “I am glad to know they have got a reason, if it is a poor one. I didn't know but they sent you round jest to be mean.” Wall, the next mornin' I told Bub to carry the errents right into the Senate. Says I, “You have took 'em one by one, alone, now you jest carry 'em before the hull batch on 'em together.” I told him to tackle the hull crew on 'em. So he jest walked right into the Senate, a carryin' Dorlesky's errents. And he come back skairt. He said, jest as he was a carryin' Dorlesky's errents in, a long petition come from thousands and thousands of wimmen on this very subject. A plea for justice and mercy, sent in respectful, to the lawmakers of the land. And he said the men jeered at it, and throwed it round the room, and called it all to nort, and made the meanest speeches about it you ever heard, talked nasty, and finally threw it under the table, and acted so haughty and overbearin' towards it, that Bub said he was afraid to tackle 'em. He said “he knew they would throw Dorlesky's errents under the table, and he was afraid they would throw him under too.” He was afraid--(he owned it up to me)--he was afraid they would knock him down. So he backed out with Dorlesky's errents, and never give it to 'em at all.