“ Old Blaze can preach like blue
blazes,” they thought, “but he didn’t
help us to our oflice, and he can’t do
any work to re-elect us.”
Bill Jones and a gaHon of cheap
whisky would carry more votes on
election day than all the sermons Old
Blaze might preach in six months, so
they gave the poor-house, at Arnold’s
suggestion, to Bill Jones, whom we
find the proprietor when little Amos
Lakcman is entered, by order of Ar
nold, a pauper. The little fellow sat
for a long time in his hard chair, after
his piteous call for his sister. He was
silent now. Those wretched creatures
had snarled at him like wolves when
they heard him, and it seemed as if
they had claws with which to tear out
his eyes. He could only groan and
sob, while his flushed cheeks dried up
the tears before they fell. He dared
make no" outcry, though his head was
so dizzy and ids side pained him so
much that he could scarcely maintain
himself in his hard seat. He saw other
creatures around in the yard who were
equally as wretched, dirty and helpless
as those in his room. Bill Jones, with
a large whip more like a slave-driver
than a poor-house keeper, was beating
an old man because he could not hoe
in the garden.
