him, “that if the tariff is laid in the name of labor, labor ought to get the tariff?” Here is the answer he received: “_If you will pardon me for expressing one little thought, I will say that I walked down this morning from the Willard, and saw a pair of horses, a beautiful cart all equipped with fruit, vegetables, and one thing and another. I can close my eyes and see that condition over on the continent of Europe, with barefooted women in rags, with a few Newfoundland dogs, or some other kind of dogs, hitched up with a string harness to the cart, and a few vegetables, that they are pulling around._” There is no reason to doubt that the gentleman saw on Pennsylvania Avenue the prosperous cart he described. There is no doubt he might have found on the continent of Europe his “barefooted woman in rags.” But if he had crossed over to the Washington market, he would have found on its outskirts numbers of men and women, some of them white-haired, who have brought in that morning from great distances out of Washington on their backs or behind tottering mules, pitiful handfuls of field flowers, wild roots, and perhaps a bunch or two of garden stuff, quite as pathetic a spectacle as the pathetic one with which he was trying to befuddle the Ways and Means Committee. All over Europe he will find as prosperous vegetable carts as those he saw in Washington—all over the United States on the outskirts of the cities he will find, if he will look, women picking up coal and bits of wood along the tracks of railroads and in the yards of factories, and see them carrying their pickings home on their backs. The gentleman indeed will rarely enter or leave an American city on a railroad that he will not see something of this kind.