I ain't kickin' on you, Mr.Harkless, no sir; but we want more men like they got in Rouen; we want men that'll git Main Street paved with block or asphalt; men that'll put in factories, men that'll act and not set round like that ole fool Martin and laugh and polly-woggle and make fun of public sperrit, day in and out.

I reckon I do my best for the city." "Oh, nobody minds Tom Martin," answered Harkless.

"It's only half the time he means anything by what he says." "That's jest what I hate about him," returned the bell-ringer in a tone of high complaint; "you can't never tell which half it is.

Look at him now!" Over in front of the hotel Martin was standing, talking to the row of coatless loungers who sat with their chairs tilted back against the props of the wooden awning that projected over the sidewalk.

Their faces were turned toward the court-house, and even those lost in meditative whittling had looked up to laugh.