“I don't think Dorlesky is unreasonable in her demands, only in the length of time she has set.” Says I, “That is jest what I told Dorlesky. I didn't believe you could do her errents this week. But you can see for yourself that she is right, only in the time she has sot.” “Yes,” he said. “He see she wuz.” And says he, “I wish the 3 could be reconciled.” “What 3?” says I. Says he, “The liquor traffic, liberty, and Dorlesky.” And then come the very hardest part of my errent. But I had to do it, I had to. Says I, in the deep, solemn tones befitting the threat, for I wuzn't the woman to cheat Dorlesky when she was out of sight, and use the wrong tones at the wrong times--no, I used my deepest and most skairful one--says I, “Dorlesky told me to tell you that if you didn't do her errent, you should not be the next President of the United States.” He turned pale. He looked agitated, fearful agitated. I s'pose it was not only my words and tone that skairt him, but my mean. I put on my noblest mean; and I s'pose I have got a very noble, high-headed mean at times. I got it, I think, in the first place, by overlookin' Josiah's faults. I always said a wife ort to overlook her husband's faults; and I have to overlook so many, that it has made me about as high-headed, sometimes, as a warlike gander, but more sort o' meller-lookin', and sublime, kinder. He stood white as a piece of a piller-case, and seemin'ly plunged down into the deepest thought. But finally he riz part way out of it, and says he,-- “I want to be on the side of Truth and Justice. I want to, awfully. And while I do not want to be President of the United States, yet at the same time I do want to be--if you'll understand that paradox,” says he. “Yes,” says I sadly. “I understand that paradox. I have seen it myself, right in my own family.” And I sithed. And agin silence rained; and I sot quietly in the rain, thinkin' mebby good would come of it. Finally he riz out of his revery; and says he, with a brighter look on his linement,-- “I am not the one to go to. I am not the one to do Dorlesky's errent.” “Who is the one?” says I. “Senator Logan,” says he. Says I, “I'll send Bub Smith to Senator Logan'ses the minute I get back; for much as I want to obleege a neighbor, I can't traipse all over Washington, walkin' afoot, and carryin' Dorlesky's errent. But Bub is trusty: I'll send him.” And I riz up to go. He riz up too. He is a gentleman; and, as I said, I like his looks. He has got that grand sort of a noble look, I have seen in other literary people, or has been seen in 'em; but modesty forbids my sayin' a word further. But jest at this minute Mr. Blaines'es hired man come in, and told him that he was wanted below; and he took up his hat and gloves. But jest as he was startin' out, he says, turnin' to the other gentleman in the room,-- “This gentleman is a senator. Mebby he can do Dorlesky's errent for you.”