I had already taken a house in Washington for the winter, and Sarah soon was busy in having it done over for us. We had shut up the Chicago house, and after discussing the matter with Sarah I concluded to turn over the Vermilion County property to a society, to be used for a reform school. Sarah talked it over with the young fellow I met on the train, who first put the idea into my head, and she seemed to take great pleasure in the plan, wanting me to give an endowment for the institution, which I promised as soon as my packing-company stock was straightened out. Now that I had failed to put Will and his family down there, as I had set my heart on doing, I had no more wish to go back to the place than Sarah had. And as a home to take boys to who hadn't a fair chance in life, it might do some good in the world. [Illustration: "_It was good sausage, Slo! At least it was when we made it._"] It was a pleasant, warm day when my colleague, Senator Drummond, came to escort me to the Senate. My secretary and Slocum accompanied us up the broad steps toward the Senate chamber. As we turned in from the street with the Capitol rising before us, my eye fell upon a broad advertising board beside the walk, on a vacant piece of property. One of the conspicuous advertisements caught my attention:-- THE DUCHESS BRAND STRICTLY FARM-MADE SAUSAGE BEST IN THE WORLD It was one of Strauss's "ads." Slocum pointed to it with a wave of his hand and glanced at me; and I thought I caught a smile on the lips of my colleague, which might have been scornful. So I paused before we passed beyond sight of the sign of the Duchess brand. "It was good sausage, Slo! At least it was when we made it." "And it did pretty well by you!" he laughed. Senator Drummond had moved forward with my secretary. "Yes! The Duchess was all right." Then we followed the others slowly up the great steps.... In the Senate chamber, in one of the galleries, a group of women were sitting about Sarah, waiting to see me take the oath. One of them waved a handkerchief at me, and as I looked up I caught sight of Mrs. Jenks's pearls when she leaned forward over the rail. On my desk there was a bunch of American Beauty roses: I did not have to look for the card to know that they had come from Jane. THE COMMON LOT. By ROBERT HERRICK, _Author of "The Real World," "The Web of Life," etc._ Cloth. 12mo. $1.50. Mr. Herrick has written a novel of searching insight and absorbing interest; a first-rate story ... sincere to the very core in its matter and in its art.--HAMILTON W. MABIE. The book is a bit of the living America of to-day, a true picture of one of its most significant phases ... living, throbbing with reality.--_N.Y. Evening Mail._ Novels of its style and quality are few and far between; ... he tells a story that is worth the telling; ... it is a study of life as he sees it, and as thousands of his readers try to avoid seeing it.--_Boston Transcript._