The five hundred who during the next three months are to register the laws find quarters as best they can.  Not all of them are as luxurious as Mr. Crewe in the Duncan house, or the Honourable Brush Bascom in number ten of the Pelican, the rent of either of which would swallow the legislative salary in no time.  The Honourable Nat Billings, senator from the Putnam County district, is comfortably installed, to be sure.  By gradual and unexplained degrees, the constitution of the State has been changed until there are only twenty senators.  Noble five hundred!  Steadfast twenty!

A careful perusal of the biographies of great men of the dynamic type leads one to the conclusion that much of their success is due to an assiduous improvement of every opportunity,—­and Mr. Humphrey Crewe certainly possessed this quality, also.  He is in the Pelican Hotel this evening, meeting the men that count.  Mr. Job Braden, who had come down with the idea that he might be of use in introducing the new member from Leith to the notables, was met by this remark:—­“You can’t introduce me to any of ’em—­they all know who I am.  Just point any of ’em out you think I ought to know, and I’ll go up and talk to ’em.  What?  Come up to my house after a while and smoke a cigar.  The Duncan house, you know—­the big one with the conservatory.”

Mr. Crewe was right—­they all knew him.  The Leith millionaire, the summer resident, was a new factor in politics, and the rumours of the size of his fortune had reached a high-water mark in the Pelican Hotel that evening.  Pushing through the crowd in the corridor outside the bridal suite waiting to shake hands with the new governor, Mr. Crewe gained an entrance in no time, and did not hesitate to interrupt the somewhat protracted felicitations of an Irish member of the Newcastle delegation.

“How are you, Governor?” he said, with the bonhomie of a man of the world.  “I’m Humphrey Crewe, from Leith.  You got a letter from me, didn’t you, congratulating you upon your election?  We didn’t do badly for you up there.  What?”

“How do you do, Mr. Crewe?” said Mr. Gray, with dignified hospitality, while their fingers slid over each other’s; “I’m glad to welcome you here.  I’ve noticed the interest you’ve taken in the State, and the number of ahem—­very useful societies to which you belong.”

“Good,” said Mr. Crewe, “I do what I can.  I just dropped in to shake your hand, and to say that I hope we’ll pull together.”

The governor lifted his eyebrows a little.

“Why, I hope so, I’m sere, Mr. Crewe,” said he.

“I’ve looked over the policy of the State for the last twenty years in regard to public improvements and the introduction of modern methods as concerns husbandry, and I find it deplorable.  You and I, Governor, live in a progressive age, and we can’t afford not to see something done.  What?  It is my desire to do what I can to help make your administration a notable advance upon those of your predecessors.”