indeed. I should not be surprised to see Coolidge win by a land-slide.”
“Did you hear what Alice Longworth said about him?” said Mrs. Pierce laughing, “—that he looked as if he had been weaned upon a pickle.”
Everyone laughed, even Mr. Joel joining with a kind of growling chuckle. As for Joel, he bent double, radiantly, gleefully convulsed with soundless laughter, snapping his fingers softly as he did so. His own humorous invention was not fertile, but his love of a good story—particularly when his mother or one of his friends told it, or quoted one of their own group—was enthusiastic. Now for a moment he bent double with this convulsed, whispering laughter: when he recovered somewhat he said softly and slowly:
“Simply swell… Gosh!” he whispered admiringly. “What a wit she’s got! It’s a swell story,” he whispered.
“By the way, Ida,” Mr. Joel growled, tugging at his short and grizzled moustache, “how is Frank? Have you been over to see them, lately?”
“Yes, Father,” she answered, “we drove over last Tuesday and spent the evening with them…. He looks very well,” she added, in answer to his question, “but, of course,” she said decisively, “he’s never going to be any better—they all say as much—”
“Hm,” old Mr. Joel growled, tugged reflectively at his short and grizzled moustache for a moment longer, and then said: “Has he been taking any part in the campaign this summer?”
“Very little,” she answered—“of course, the man has gone through hell these last few years—he’s suffered agonies! He seems a little better now, but”—her voice rose again on its tone of booming finality as she shook her head—“he’ll never get back the use of his legs again—the man is a permanent cripple,” she said positively—“there’s no getting around it—and he himself is reconciled to it.”
“Hm,” growled old Mr. Joel again, as he tugged at his short moustache—“Pity! Nice fellow, Frank! Always liked him!… A little on the flashy order, maybe—like all his family… too easy-going, too agreeable… but great ability!… Pity!”
“Yes, isn’t it!” Joel whispered with soft eager sympathy. “And, Grandfather,” he went on with an eager enthusiasm, “—his charm is simply stupendous!… I’ve never known anything like it!… The moment that he speaks to you he makes you his friend for ever—and he knows
