As the Senator dismissed two persons the door opened and Paddy Sullivan entered. Paddy was a large, red-faced, sandy-haired Irishman, his cheeks covered with a long rough beard. Holding a cigar between the second and third fingers of his left hand, he seized his black slouched hat with his right and dropped it on the table. His appearance seemed to please the Senator, for he extended a more cordial welcome to Paddy than to any previous visitors. "How are you, Paddy?" he said, warmly grasping the great mass of flesh that individual used for a hand. "Foine as a top, Sinitor, and how's yersel'?" quickly answered Paddy. "Well--very well. Sit down and let's have a quiet talk. Throw away that old stump, there--try a choice Havana," and he passed a cigar-box taken from a private drawer. "Now, Paddy, how are all the boys, and how goes politics at 'The Shades'?" "Politics has been so dull that we're only been able to dhraw about two kegs of lager a day. I've always noticed, Sinitor, that when politics is a little hazy, the boys are busted and the beer-tap only runs driblets. Ah, Sinitor, if I was in Congress, be jabers! I'd go in for a law that would have elickshun hild ivery month. But see here, Sinitor, look out for that blagyard Daley. He bought four kegs of lager lasht week; but shure I sot up six kegs for the b'ys--and--sh-h-h-h, d'ye moind--I tould 'em Sinitor Hamblin had left orders for me to do it--that I did. When the Daleys get the shtart of Paddy Sullivan and his frinds it's whin Paddy's shlapin'." "You did right," said the Senator, "and you can send the bill to me. By the way, Paddy, are the boys all right? How many of the laborers at the mill can you pull for me? Ah, Paddy, you are a clear-headed man; no one can control as many votes as yourself." "Ah, bedad! yee's jist roight. Ayven the good Father Burns wid his blissed callin' can't run as many men wid his holy power as Paddy Sullivan wid his lager and whishkey. The b'ys knows who's their frind, and when they was swallowing Daley's lager I tips 'em the wink and says I, 'B'ys, dom Daley, but here's to the hilth of the Boss!' and, Sinitor, ivery mother's son of 'em was rid hot for yees!"