MRS.

DELILAH JONES.
Mr.Newt's political friends in New York were naturally anxious when he went to Washington.

They had constant communication with the Honorable Mr.Ele in regard to his colleague; for although they were entirely sure of Mr.Ele, they could not quite confide in Mr.Newt, nor help feeling that, in some eccentric moment, even his interest might fail to control him.
"The truth is, I begin to be sick of it," said General Belch to the calm William Condor.
That placid gentleman replied that he saw no reason for apprehension.
"But he may let things out, you know," said Belch.
"Yes, but is not our word as good as his," was the assuring reply.
"Perhaps, perhaps," said General Belch, dolefully.
But Belch and Condor were forgotten by the representative they had sent to Congress when he once snuffed the air of Washington.

There was something grateful to Abel Newt in the wide sphere and complicated relations of the political capital, of which the atmosphere was one of intrigue, and which was built over the mines and countermines of selfishness.

He hoodwinked all Belch's spies, so that the Honorable Mr.
Ele could never ascertain any thing about his colleague, until once when he discovered that the report upon the Grant was to be brought in within a day or two by the Committee, and that it would be recommended, upon which he hastened to Abel's lodging.