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The Second Quarter

Is the luxury of feeling in proportion to the number of votes; or is it, to a rightly constituted mind, in proportion to the number of applicants, and the wholesome state of mind to which their canvassing reduces them? Is there no excitement of the purest kind in having two votes to dispose of among fifty people?”

“Not to me, I acknowledge,” replied the lady. “It bores one. Besides, one can’t oblige one’s acquaintance. But you are the Poor Man’s Friend, you know. Sir Joseph. You think otherwise.”

“I am the Poor Man’s Friend,” observed Sir Joseph, glanc­ing at the poor man present. “As such I may be taunted. As such I have been taunted. But I ask no other title.”

“I don’t agree with Cute here, for instance,” said Sir Joseph, holding out the letter. “I don’t agree with the Filer party. I don’t agree with any party. My friend the Poor Man has no business with anything of that sort, and nothing of that sort has any business with him. My friend the Poor Man, in my district, is my business. No man or body of men has any right to interfere between my friend and me. That is the ground I take. I assume a—a paternal character towards my friend. I say, ‘My good fellow, I will treat you paternally.’”

Toby listened with great gravity, and began to feel more comfortable.

“Your only business, my good fellow,” pursued Sir Joseph,

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