“Why should I give it up?” queried Perkins.  “You don’t suppose I am having any better luck than Mr. Haskins, do you?”

“Is he losing them too?” asked Mrs. Perkins, hopefully.

“I judge so from what he tells me,” said Perkins.  “We took dinner together at the Centurion in New York the other night, and he’s a prince of good fellows, Bess.  He has just as much trouble as I have, and when I met him on the train the other day he was as blue as I about the future.”

“You and the captain dining together?” ejaculated Mrs. Perkins.

“Certainly,” said Perkins.  “Why not?  Our hatred is merely political, and we can meet on a level of good-fellowship anywhere outside of Dumfries Corners.”

Mrs. Perkins laughed outright.  “Isn’t it funny!” she said.

“Why, Haskins is one of my best friends, generally,” continued Perkins.  “I don’t see anything funny about it.  Just because we both happen to be dragged into politics on opposite sides at the same moment is no reason why we should begin cutting each other’s throats, my dear.  In fact, with balances of power springing up all over town like mushrooms, we have become companions in misery.”

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t get together, then, and tell these balances to go to—­to grass,” suggested Mrs. Perkins.

“Grass is too mild, my love,” remarked the candidate, smiling quietly.  “They wouldn’t go there, even if we told them to, so it would be simply a waste of breath.  We’ve got to grin and bear them until the polls close, and then we can pitch in and tell ’em what we think of them.”

“Just the same,” continued Mrs. Perkins, “an agreement between Mr. Haskins and you to ignore these people utterly, instead of taking them into your family, would stop the whole abuse.”

“That’s a woman’s idea,” said Perkins, bravely, though in the innermost recesses of his heart he wished he had thought of it before.  “It isn’t practical politics, my love.  You might as well say that two opposing generals in a war could save thousands of lives by avoiding each other’s armies and keeping out of a fight.”

“Well, I do say that,” replied Mrs. Perkins, positively.  “That’s exactly my view of what generals ought to do.”

“And what would become of the war?” queried the candidate.

“There wouldn’t be any,” said the good little woman.

“Precisely,” retorted Perkins.  “Precisely.  And if Haskins and I did what you want us to do, there would be no more politics.”

“Well, what of it?” demanded Mrs. Perkins.  “Are politics the salvation of the country?  It’s as bad as war.”