Winding in and out through the long, devious basement passage, crawling through the corridors, trailing its slimy length from gallery to committee room, at last it lies stretched at full length on the floor of Congress--this dazzling reptile, this huge, scaly serpent of the lobby. It is true, Senator Thurman is on hand fully equipped with his judicial arrows; but what is Thurman--dear old Thurman--in the face of such a statesman. Philadelphia’s charming daughter--fair, fat and forty--embraces him with eyes whose seductive powers have only been intensified by the years. A luscious, mellow banana; a juicy, melting peach; a golden pippin, ripened to the very core. From India’s coral strand comes the two thousand dollar cashmere wrap that snuggles close to her fair shoulders. Diamonds, brilliant as the stars in Orion’s jewelled belt, adorn her dainty ears, whilst silk, satin, velvet, feathers, and laces prove what a railroad can do when its funds are applied in the proper direction. To-day a remarkable set of men are engaged in digging, burrowing, and blowing up senatorial rock--men whose faces seem carved out of the very granite that kissed of the Mayflower many years ago. Is it possible that all the iron endurance and savage aggressiveness so necessary to make indomitable character has been entirely absorbed by the railroad kings? In the Senate wing, in a room so perfect in its appointments that it might be taken for a jewel casket, may be seen Jay Gould, the Napoleon of the hour. A small picture, but a great deal of time spent on the work. How elaborately and how exquisitely finished. About the height of the Little Corporal, but more delicate and slender. A rare head, well rounded, with ears such as all blooded animals possess. Pallid in complexion, like every other mortal whose blood is pumped up into the brain to keep the huge mental fires blazing. Eyes radiant and piercing and hair tinted like the locks of the Prince of Darkness. If Samson’s strength lay in his curls, Jay Gould’s must be found in his nose, for it is a feature that betrays the whole character of the man. As there is but one Jay Gould on the face of the earth, there is but this solitary nose, which is neither Grecian, Roman, aquiline nor pug, but a nose abundantly able to poke into every earthly matter and manage to come out victorious in the end. His mouth is another extremely attractive feature--the kind, however, that is not given to talk. It is more useful as a dainty receptacle for terrapin and champagne, though it may be considered a chasm of another dangerous kind, from which women are warned for all time to keep modestly away.