All-Wool Morrison | Page 7

commonplaces was perfunctory enough,
their manner suggested nothing to a casual observer; but Miss Bunker
was not a casual observer. "She's ashamed," was her mental conviction.

"Her eyes give her away. She don't look up at him like a girl can look at
any man when there's nothing on her conscience. Whatever it was that
happened, she's the one who's to blame--but if she can't be sorry it
doesn't excuse her because she's ashamed."
Possibly Miss Corson was covering embarrassment with the jaunty
grandiloquence that she displayed.
"I have dared to intrude among the mighty of the state and city, Mister
Mayor, in order to impress upon you by word of mouth that your
invitation to the reception at our home this evening isn't merely an
invitation extended to the chief executive of the city. It's for Stewart
Morrison himself," ran her little speech.
"I hoped so. This word from you certifies it. And Stewart Morrison will
strive to behave just as politely as he used to behave at other parties of
Lana Corson's when he steeled his heart against a second helping of
cake and cream."
She forestalled her father. "Allow me to make you acquainted with
Coventry Daunt, Stewart."
Morrison surveyed the young stranger with frank and appraising
interest. Then the big hand went out with no hint of any reservation in
cordiality.
"I'm sure you two are going to be excellent friends!" prophesied Lana.
"You're so much alike."
The florid giant and the dapper, dark young man swapped apologies in
a faint flicker of a mutual grin.
"I mean in your tastes! Mr. Daunt is tremendously interested in
water-power," Miss Corson hastened to say. "But father is waiting for
you, Stewart."
So, however, was the sniveling old woman waiting!

She had not presumed to break in on a conference with another of her
sex--but when the mayor turned from the lady and started to be
concerned with mere men, the old woman asserted her prerogative.
"Out of me way. Con Rellihan, ye omadhaun, that I have chased manny
the time out o' me patch! I'm a lady and I have me rights first!" She
struggled and squalled when the officer set his palms against her to
push her away.
Morrison dropped the Governor's hand, broke off his "duty speech,"
and with rueful smile pleaded for tolerance from the Corson party.
"Hush, Mother Slattery!" he remonstrated.
"Ah, that's orders from him as has the grand right to give 'em! Niver a
wor-rd from me mouth, Your 'Anner, till I may say me say at your
call!"
A prolonged, still more deprecatory smile was bestowed by the mayor
on the élite among his guests!
"I was out of town when I was elected mayor, and they hadn't taken the
precaution to measure me for an office room at the city building. I
didn't fit anything down there. Some day they're going to build the
place over and have room for the mayor to transact business without
holding callers on his knee. In the mean time, what mayoralty business
I don't do out of my hat on the street I attend to here where I can give a
little attention to my own business as well. Now, just a moment
please!" he pleaded, turning from them.
He went to the old woman, checking the outburst with which she
flooded him when he approached. "I know! I know, Mother Slattery!
No need to tell me about it. As a fellow-martyr, I realize just how Jim
has been up against it--again!" He slid something into her hand
"Rellihan will speak to the judge!" He passed hastily from person to
person, the officer at his heels with ear cocked to receive the orders of
his master as to the disposition of cases and affairs. Then Rellihan
marshaled the retreat of the supplicants from the presence.

"I do hope you understand why I attended to that business first,"
apologized the mayor.
"Certainly! It's all in the way of politics," averred the Senator, out of his
own experience. "I have been mayor of Marion, myself!"
"With me it's business instead of politics," returned Morrison, gravely.
"I don't know anything about politics. Mac Tavish, there, says I don't.
And Tavish knows me well. But when I took this job--"
"Ye didna tak' it," protested Mac Tavish, determined then, as always,
that the Morrison should be set in the right light. "They scrabbled ye by
yer scruff and whamped ye into a--"
"Yes! Aye! Something of the sort! But I'm in, and I feel under
obligations to attend to the business of the city as it comes to hand. And
business--I have made business sacred when I have taken on the burden
of it."
"I fully understand that, Stewart, and my friend Daunt will be glad to
hear you say