days you might venture, "Was it Shakespeare, sir?"
Then he would look at you and say:
"Let me instruct you."
This afternoon then, after I had inspected the premises, noticed how much taller my cousin's fir-*tree was than the one I called mine (we had planted them one day, as little boys, years before), and after I had had a drink at the old pump, which in those days, before germs, brought up such cold, clear water, and after I had ascended to my cool room up stairs, and come downstairs again, and we had idly talked for a little while, as I said, he sat and looked at me a moment, and then said:
"Do you understand this tariff question?"
In those days I might have made the due, what I might term with reference to that situation, the conventional reply, and so have said:
"No, sir."
In these days I am sure I should. But I hesitated. He had already stretched forth his hand.
"Yes, sir," I said.
He drew in his hand, and for an instant touched with his long fingers the end of his large nose. I plunged ahead.
"I am in favor of Free Trade, sir."
He did not extend his hand. He looked at me a moment, and then he said:
"You are quite right; we must support Mr. Cleveland in the coming contest."
And then he sank back in his chair and laughed.
He was always like that, following the truth as
