The line was in charge of two or three little girls,
the eldest of whom was not over twelve. She was a bright-eyed little
miss, and had in her face a good share of that metal which the vulgar
think is indispensable to young lawyers. We came to a gradual pause at
sight of this novel obstruction. "Buchanan, Fillmore, or Fremont?"
said she, in a tone of dogmatical interrogatory. B. was a fervid
Fremonter-- he probably thought she was-- so he exclaimed, "Vermont
for ever!" I awaited the sequel in silence. "Then you may go round,"
said the little female politician. "You may go round," and round we
went, not a little amused at such an exhibition of enthusiasm. I
remember very well the excitement during the campaign of 1840; and I
did my share with the New Hampshire boys in getting up decoy cider
barrels to humbug the Whigs as they passed in their barouches to
attend some great convention or hear Daniel Webster. But it seems to
me there is much more political excitement during this campaign than
there was in 1840. Flagstaffs and banners abound in the greatest
profusion in every village.
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