The Senator then launched into a sketch of our great country, and dwelt for an hour or more upon its prosperity and the dangers which threatened it.

He then touched reverently upon the institutions of religion, and upon the necessity of private purity, if we were to have any public morality.  “I trust,” he said, “that there are children within the sound of my voice,” and after some remarks to them, the Senator closed with an apostrophe to “the genius of American Liberty, walking with the Sunday School in one hand and Temperance in the other up the glorified steps of the National Capitol.”

Col.  Sellers did not of course lose the opportunity to impress upon so influential a person as the Senator the desirability of improving the navigation of Columbus river.  He and Mr. Brierly took the Senator over to Napoleon and opened to him their plan.  It was a plan that the Senator could understand without a great deal of explanation, for he seemed to be familiar with the like improvements elsewhere.  When, however, they reached Stone’s Landing the Senator looked about him and inquired,

“Is this Napoleon?”

“This is the nucleus, the nucleus,” said the Colonel, unrolling his map.  “Here is the deepo, the church, the City Hall and so on.”

“Ah, I see.  How far from here is Columbus River?  Does that stream empty——­”

“That, why, that’s Goose Run.  Thar ain’t no Columbus, thout’n it’s over to Hawkeye,” interrupted one of the citizens, who had come out to stare at the strangers.  “A railroad come here last summer, but it haint been here no mo’.”

“Yes, sir,” the Colonel hastened to explain, “in the old records Columbus River is called Goose Run.  You see how it sweeps round the town—­forty-nine miles to the Missouri; sloop navigation all the way pretty much, drains this whole country; when it’s improved steamboats will run right up here.  It’s got to be enlarged, deepened.  You see by the map.  Columbus River.  This country must have water communication!”

“You’ll want a considerable appropriation, Col.  Sellers.

“I should say a million; is that your figure Mr. Brierly.”

“According to our surveys,” said Harry, “a million would do it; a million spent on the river would make Napoleon worth two millions at least.”

“I see,” nodded the Senator.  “But you’d better begin by asking only for two or three hundred thousand, the usual way.  You can begin to sell town lots on that appropriation you know.”

The Senator, himself, to do him justice, was not very much interested in the country or the stream, but he favored the appropriation, and he gave the Colonel and Mr. Brierly to and understand that he would endeavor to get it through.  Harry, who thought he was shrewd and understood Washington, suggested an interest.

But he saw that the Senator was wounded by the suggestion.

“You will offend me by repeating such an observation,” he said.  “Whatever I do will be for the public interest.  It will require a portion of the appropriation for necessary expenses, and I am sorry to say that there are members who will have to be seen.  But you can reckon upon my humble services.”