The things we do!

Both these gentlemen had removed their
coats and hung them across the backs of chairs, evidently intending
a serious session. In this procedure the last of the party now
followed suit,--the Honorable William Jones, state senator from
Belmont, Missouri. Seating himself, the latter now in turn began
shuffling a pack between fingers short, puffy, freckled and
experienced. His stooped shoulders thrust forward a beardless
round face, whose permanently arched eyebrows seemed to ask a
continuous question, his short, dark hair receded from a high
forehead, and a thick mid-body betokened alike middle age and easy
living. A planter of the back country, and a politician, his
capital was a certain native shrewdness and little else. Of
course, in company such as this, and at such a day, the
conversation must drift toward the ever fruitful topic of slavery.
"No, sir," began the Honorable William Jones, indulging himself in
the luxury of tobacco as he addressed his companions, "there ain't
no doubt about it.


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