The “sixt” was wild with joy over the triumph. Whether it was because it was a tenement ward, or because Peter had talked there so much about it, or because his success was felt to redound to their credit, the voters got up a display of fireworks on the night when the news of the signing of the bills reached New York. When Peter returned to the city, he was called down to a hall one evening, to witness a torchlight procession and receive resolutions “engrossed and framed” from his admiring friends. Blunkers was chairman and made a plain speech which set the boys cheering by its combination of strong feeling and lack of grammar. Then Justice Gallagher made a fine-sounding, big-worded presentation. In the enthusiasm of the moment, Dennis broke the programme by rising and giving vent to a wild burst of feeling, telling his audience all that they owed to Peter, and though they knew already what he told them, they cheered and cheered the strong, natural eloquence. “Yer was out a order,” said Blunkers, at the end of the speech. “Yez loi!” said Dennis, jumping on his feet again. “It’s never out av order to praise Misther Stirling.” The crowd applauded his sentiment. CHAPTER XXXII. THE END OF THE CONFLICT. Peter had had some rough experiences two or three times in his fall campaign, and Dennis, who had insisted on escorting him, took him to task about his “physical culture.” “It’s thirty pounds yez are too heavy, sir,” he told Peter. “An’ it’s too little intirely yez afther knowin’ av hittin’.” Peter asked his advice, bought Indian clubs, dumb-bells, and boxing-gloves, and under Dennis’s tutelage began to learn the art of self-defence. He was rather surprised, at the end of two months, to find how much flesh he had taken off, how much more easily he moved, how much more he was eating, and how much more he was able to do, both mentally and physically. “It seems as if somebody had oiled my body and brain,” he told Dennis. Dennis let him into another thing, by persuading him to join the militia regiment most patronized by the “sixth,” and in which Dennis was already a sergeant. Peter received a warm welcome from the regiment, for Dennis, who was extremely popular, had heralded his fame, and Peter’s physical strength and friendly way did the rest. Ogden Ogden laughed at him for joining a “Mick” regiment, and wanted to put Peter into the Seventh. Peter only said that he thought his place was where he was. Society did not see much of Peter this winter. He called on his friends dutifully, but his long visits to Albany, his evenings with Dennis, and his drill nights, interfered badly with his acceptance of the invitations sent him. He had, too, made many friends in his commission work and politics, so that he had relatively less time to give to his older ones. The absence of Miss De Voe and Lispenard somewhat reduced his social obligations it is true, but the demands on his time were multiplying fast.