So they arranged it in that way.  Joe signed Jack Murphy’s name in his very best style, and then Jack took the pen and under Joe’s explicit directions, drew one line horizontally through the name and another line perpendicularly between the two words of it, and Joe wrote above it:  “his solem mark.”  This completed the resolutions, and the committee hurried back with them to the impatient assembly.  The meeting was called to order again, and Joe Foster read the resolutions.

“That’s jest the way I feel about it,” said Ralph, “jest the way that paper reads.  He couldn’t ‘a’ been no better to us, no way.  Boys,” he continued, earnestly, forgetting for the time being his position, “do you ’member ‘bout his comin’ into the screen-room last Tuesday an’ givin’ us each a quarter to go t’ the circus with?  Well, I’d cut my han’ that day on a piece o’ coal, an’ it was a-bleedin’ bad, an’ he see it, an’ he asked me what was the matter with it, an’ I told ’im, an’ he took it an’ washed it off, he did, jest as nice an’ careful; an’ then what d’ye think he done?  W’y he took ’is own han’kerchy, his own han’kerchy, mind ye, an’ tore it into strips an’ wrapped it roun’ my han’ jest as nice—­jest as nice—­”

And here the memory of this kindness became so vivid in Ralph’s mind that he broke down and cried outright.

“It was jes’ like ‘im,” said one in the crowd; “he was always a-doin’ sumpthin’ jes’ like that.  D’ye ’member that time w’en I froze my ear, an’ he give me money to buy a new cap with ear-laps on to it?”

The recital of this incident called from another the statement of some generous deed, and, in the fund of kindly reminiscence thus aroused, the resolutions came near to being wholly forgotten.  But they were remembered, finally, and were called up and adopted, and it was agreed that the chairman should carry them and present them to whoever should be found in charge at the house.  Then, with Ralph and Joe Foster leading the procession, they started toward the city.  Reaching Laburnum Avenue, they marched down that street in twos until they came to the Burnham residence.  There was a short consultation there, and then they all passed in through the gate to the lawn, and Ralph and Joe went up the broad stone steps to the door.  A kind-faced woman met them there, and Ralph said:  “We’ve come, if you please, the breaker boys have come to—­to—­” The woman smiled sweetly, and said:  “Yes, we’ve been expecting you; wait a moment and I will see what arrangements have been made for you.”

Joe Foster nudged Ralph with his elbow, and whispered:—­

“The res’lutions, Ralph, the res’lutions; now’s the time; give ’em to her.”

But Ralph did not hear him.  His mind was elsewhere.  As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light in the hall, and he saw the winding staircase with its richly carved posts, the beauty of the stained-glass windows, the graceful hangings, the broad doors, the pictures, and the flowers, there came upon him a sense of strange familiarity with the scene.  It seemed to him as though sometime, somewhere, he had seen it, known it all before.  The feeling was so sudden and so strong that it made him faint and dizzy.