(nothing offensive is intended by “boys,” it is put in for euphony, and sung pianissimo, not to offend the suffragists), it’s-almost-here.”  And what a brightening up of their faces there is when they say, “it’s-al-most-here,” not doubting for a moment that “it’s” coming tomorrow; and the accompanying melodeon also wails its wheezy suggestion that “it’s-al-most-here,” that “good-time” (delayed so long, waiting perhaps for the invention of the melodeon) when we shall all sing and all play that cheerful instrument, and all vote, and none shall smoke, or drink, or eat meat, “boys.”  I declare it almost makes me cry to hear them, so touching is their faith in the midst of a jeer-ing world.

Herbert.  I suspect that no one can be a genuine reformer and not be ridiculous.  I mean those who give themselves up to the unction of the reform.

The mistress.  Does n’t that depend upon whether the reform is large or petty?

The fire-tender.  I should say rather that the reforms attracted to them all the ridiculous people, who almost always manage to become the most conspicuous.  I suppose that nobody dare write out all that was ludicrous in the great abolition movement.  But it was not at all comical to those most zealous in it; they never could see—­more’s the pity, for thereby they lose much—­the humorous side of their performances, and that is why the pathos overcomes one’s sense of the absurdity of such people.

The young lady.  It is lucky for the world that so many are willing to be absurd.

Herbert.  Well, I think that, in the main, the reformers manage to look out for themselves tolerably well.  I knew once a lean and faithful agent of a great philanthropic scheme, who contrived to collect every year for the cause just enough to support him at a good hotel comfortably.

The mistress.  That’s identifying one’s self with the cause.

Mandeville.  You remember the great free-soil convention at Buffalo, in 1848, when Van Buren was nominated.  All the world of hope and discontent went there, with its projects of reform.  There seemed to be no doubt, among hundreds that attended it, that if they could get a resolution passed that bread should be buttered on both sides, it would be so buttered.  The platform provided for every want and every woe.

The fire-tender.  I remember.  If you could get the millennium by political action, we should have had it then.

Mandeville.  We went there on the Erie Canal, the exciting and fashionable mode of travel in those days.  I was a boy when we began the voyage.  The boat was full of conventionists; all the talk was of what must be done there.  I got the impression that as that boat-load went so would go the convention; and I was not alone in that feeling.  I can never be grateful enough for one little scrubby fanatic who