CHAPTER XIII

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At the sight of the dear old lady in a pannier gown, Alice could not help uttering a little cry of delight.

"Do let me introduce you," she said to the Red Knight, and she ran forward, pulling his steed along by the rein. "The Red Knight, Mrs. Malaprop," she said, and beamed upon both of them.

"Not the Mrs. Malaprop," said the Red Knight, holding out one hand and clinging to the saddle with the other.

"The same," said the old lady; "may I facilitate you upon the results in Illinois and Pennsylvania?"

"I thank you," said the Red Knight. "I have often heard you spoken of as one of our leading simplified spellers. If I am not mistaken, your grandfather was Col. Lapsus LinguÆ of Faux Pas."

"He was," said the old lady. "And on my mother's side I am related to the Bulls of Ireland and the Hiatuses of Prattling Common. If an old woman's good wishes count for anything—"

"Madam," said the Red Knight, "after California, I freely recognize the extraordinary mental and moral qualities of our women voters."

"I have long wished to tell you," said the old woman, "how I admire the victorious career of one whom I regard as the most Perkinacious of all our candidates."

"Pert, not Perk," hinted Alice, gently.

"Perk or Pert, what difference does it make?" said the old lady. "We live not by the letter of the law, but by its spirituous consultation. I have known many candidates who have fought hard for their own ends, but none whose motives are so absolutely Flinnathropic."

"Philanthropic," suggested Alice, in a whisper.

"Please don't interrogate so much," said the old lady, but still without losing her temper. "When I meet a public man who is so ready to capitalize his own interests to those of his country—"

"Sacri—" Alice started to say, but caught herself in time.

"Why, then," went on the old lady, "he ought to have as many terms as he likes. If two are not enough he should have a third term, if only by Hannalogy. Now I hope I got that right," she said, turning defiantly to Alice.

But Alice's feelings were hurt, and she said nothing.

"And so," concluded the old lady, "I hope that you will succeed in keeping up your spontaneous consumption of public interest and that you won't let them take away your Southern renegades—"

"Delega—" said Alice before she could stop herself.

But the old lady only glared at her and went on addressing the Red Knight: "And may all your enemies be like that English duke who was drowned in a barrel of Munsey."

"Malmsey," shouted Alice, no longer able to control herself. But the Red Knight turned to her and chided her gently: "The question, my dear Alice, is who shall make the rules of language, the plain people or the bosses who write the dictionaries."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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