“There she is again,” whispered Cynthia, who had taken an instinctive and extraordinary dislike to Miss Cassandra.  Then Mr. Sutton rose majestically to put the question.

“Gentlemen, are you ready for the question?” he cried.  “All those in favor of the resolution of the gentleman from Wantage, Mr. Jameson—­” the Speaker stopped abruptly.  The legislators in the front seats swung around, and people in the gallery craned forward to see a member standing at his seat in the extreme rear of the hall.  He was a little man in an ill-fitting coat, his wizened face clean-shaven save for the broom-shaped beard under his chin, which he now held in his hand.  His thin, nasal voice was somehow absurdly penetrating as he addressed the chair.  Mr. Sutton was apparently, for once, taken by surprise, and stared a moment, as though racking his brain for the name.

“The gentleman from Suffolk, Mr. Heath,” he said, and smiling a little, sat down.

The gentleman from Suffolk, still holding on to his beard, pitched in without preamble.

“We farmers on the back seats don’t often get a chance to be heard, Mr. Speaker,” said he, amidst a general tittering from the front seats.  “We come down here without any l’arnin’ of parli’ment’ry law, and before we know what’s happened the session’s over, and we hain’t said nothin’.”  (More laughter.) “There’s b’en a good many times when I wanted to say somethin’, and this time I made up my mind I was a-goin’ to—­law or no law.”

(Applause, and a general show of interest in the gentleman from Suffolk.) “Naow, Mr. Speaker, I hain’t ag’in’ ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin.’  It’s a good play, and it’s done an almighty lot of good.  And I hain’t sayin’ nothin’ ag’in’ Alvy Hopkins nor his munificence.  But I do know there’s a sight of little bills on that desk that won’t be passed if we don’t set to-morrow night—­little bills that are big bills for us farmers.  That thar woodchuck bill, for one.” (Laughter.) “My constituents want I should have that bill passed.  We don’t need a quorum for them bills, but we need time.  Naow, Mr. Speaker, I say let all them that wants to go and see ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ go and see it, but let a few of us fellers that has woodchuck bills and other things that we’ve got to get through come down here and pass ’em.  You kin put ’em on the docket, and I guess if anything comes along that hain’t jest right for everybody, somebody can challenge a quorum and bust up the session.  That’s all.”

The gentleman from Suffolk sat down amidst thunderous applause, and before it died away Mr. Jameson was on his feet, smiling and rubbing his hands together, and was recognized.

“Mr. Speaker,” he said, as soon as he could be heard, “if the gentleman from Suffolk desires to pass woodchuck bills” (renewed laughter), “he can do so as far as I’m concerned.  I guess I know where most of the members of this House will be to-morrow night-” (Cries of ‘You’re right’, and sharp rapping of the gavel.) “Mr. Speaker, I withdraw my resolution.”