“I like not this assembling of the people to discuss political matters. We must look to it, gentlemen, or we shall find that we have ridded ourselves of a king only to fall into the hands of a democracy, which I take it would be a bad exchange.” “Sir,” said Edwards, “you must be in need of refreshment, after your ride. Come in, sir, and come in gentlemen, all. We shall discuss the Providential issue of the convention more commodiously within doors, over a suitable provision of Jamaica.” The suggestion seemed to be timely and acceptable, and one by one the gentlemen, standing aside with ceremonious politeness to let one another precede, entered the store, Parson West leading, for it was neither according to the requirements of decorum, or his own private tastes, that the minister should decline a convivial invitation of this character. “What d'ee say, Laban?” “What did they dew?” “Did they 'bolish the loryers?” “Wat did they dew baout more bills, Laban, hey?” “What did they dew baout the taxes?” “Why don't ye speak, man?” “What's the matter on ye?” were some of the volley of questions with which the people hailed their chop-fallen deputy on his return, crowding forward around him, plucking his sleeves and pushing him to get his attention, for he regarded them with a dazed and sleep-walking expression. Finally he found his voice, and said: “Squire says ez haow they didn' dew nothin.” There was a moment's dead silence, then the clamor burst out again. “Not dew nothin?” “What d'ye mean, Laban?” “Nothin baout the taxes?” “Nothin baout the loryers?” “Nothin baout the sheriffs' fees?” “Nothin baout jailin for debt?” “Nothin baout takin prop'ty tew a valiation, Laban?” “Nothin baout movin govment aout o' Bosting?” “Nothin, I tells ye,” answered Laban, in the same tone of utter discouragement. “Squire says ez haow the convenshin hain't done nothin 'cept tew resolve that ez courts sh'd go on an the laws sh'd be kerried aout an disorderly folks sh'd be punished.” The men looked from one to another of each other's faces, and each wore the same blank look. Finally Israel Goodrich said, nodding his head with an expression of utter dejection at each word: “Wal, I swow, I be kinder disappinted.” There was a space of silence. “So be I,” said Peleg. Presently Paul Hubbard's metallic voice was heard. “We were fools not to have known it. Didn't we elect a General Court last year a purpose to do something for us, and come to get down to Bosting didn't the lawyers buy em up or fool em so they didn't do a thing? The people won't git righted till they take hold and right themselves, as they did in the war.” “Is that all the Squire said, Laban, every word?” asked Israel, and as he did so all eyes turned on Laban with a faint gleam of hope that there might yet be some crumb of comfort. Laban scratched his head. “He said suthin baout govment bein none o' our business an haow we'd a better go hum an not be loafin roun'.”