There was a minute's silence. The Commonwealth was dying hard. "I could shake the money out of Bobberts' bank," said Mr. Fenelby, but even as he said it Bobberts wailed. His voice arose clear and strong in protest against that or against something else. The kitchen door swung open and the Dictator ran in and approached the Heir, and Bobberts held out his arms. "Bless th' darlin'," said Bridget, cuddling him in her arms, but Mrs. Fenelby frowned. "Give him to me," she said sternly, and Bridget turned to her. And then, in the eyes of all the Commonwealth, Bobberts turned his back on his own mother and clung to the Dictator! Clung, and squealed, until the danger of separation was over. "You see!" said Billy, triumphantly. Mrs. Fenelby sighed. The Dictator had won. The tariff was dead. "And in our house," said Kitty, cheerfully, "we won't have any tariff, will we, Billy?" "Your house!" exclaimed Mrs. Fenelby, forgetting all about the Dictator in the new interest, and brightening into herself again. "Our house," said Kitty proudly. "Mine and Billy's." "Our house," echoed Billy, blushing. "We can't stand a Dictator, and we are going to secede and--and have a United State of our own." * * * * * "Isn't it splendid about Kitty and Billy?" said Mrs. Fenelby that evening to Tom, as they bent over Bobberts' crib. "And if it hadn't been for our tariff driving them together I don't believe it would ever have happened." "It's fine!" said Mr. Fenelby. "Fine! And that other set of Eugene Field will do for a wedding present!" THE END TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent. End of Project Gutenberg's The Cheerful Smugglers, by Ellis Parker Butler