The vote is only the beginning, the necessary beginning. You shall know the truth. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. The manager conceded that he saw, that his original diagnosis was at fault. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. “But your hair,” he gasped.
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