"Yes," said Laura sympathetically. "I thought of all that, Tom, and I don't think it does them much credit. It is easy enough for them to say there must be a tariff, when they bring hardly anything into the house that they have to pay duty on, but _we_ have to keep the house going. _We_ have to have vegetables and meat and all sorts of things, and they are making _us_ pay duty, while all they have to do is to eat and have a good time. Bobberts is our child, Tom, and it ought to be for us to say what we will save for him, and how we will save it." "That is just what I think," said Mr. Fenelby feelingly, "and I am not going to stand it any longer. I am going to have another meeting of congress this afternoon--" "They will vote just the same way," said Laura, hopelessly. "Probably," said Mr. Fenelby. "But if they do we will end the whole thing." "We can't send them away," said Laura. "We couldn't be so rude as that." "No," said Mr. Fenelby, "but we will secede. You and I and Bobberts will secede from the Union. I never believed in secession, Laura, but I see now that there are times when conditions become so intolerable that there is nothing else to do. We will give them a chance to vote the tariff out of existence, and if they don't we will just secede from the Commonwealth of Bobberts. We will have a free trade commonwealth of our own, and Kitty and Billy can do as they please." "Tom," said Mrs. Fenelby, "that is just what we will do!" And so it was settled. By the time Kitty and Billy returned loiteringly from church Mr. Fenelby had progressed pretty well through four of the sixteen sections of the Sunday paper, and Mrs. Fenelby had Bobberts washed and dressed and was in the kitchen preparing dinner, which on Sunday was supposed to be at noon, but which, this Sunday, threatened to be about two o'clock. Kitty threw off her hat and dropped her umbrella in the hall and rushed for the kitchen. Billy merely glanced into the parlor, and seeing Tom holding the grim funny page uncompromisingly before his face, strolled out to the hammock. "Laura," cried Kitty, "you _must_ let me help you! And what do you think? We met Doctor Stafford, and he _did_ prescribe whisky and rock candy for Bridget's cold! So I fixed everything all right. I rushed Billy around to Bridget's sister's and Bridget is just getting over her cold, so she was glad to come back to you. She says she never, never drinks except under her doctor's orders, and she said that if you hadn't been so hasty--" Mrs. Fenelby dropped the potato she was slicing. Her pretty mouth hardened.