"Irene is the proper one to act as judge," said Abner.
"Do they make the best judges who know the least?"
"Frequently; and a juror who knows anything of the case he is to pass a verdict on is incompetent, so you are a competent juror, any way, Irene; and as one woman is equal to twelve men you can complete the entire panel."
"I beg pardon of the court," said Irene, rising from the table, "but I can not sit on this jury. I am prejudiced on both sides. I have friends on both sides, and I could not render an unbiased verdict."
"If it's not, the new piece of music you bought me is, so I leave you to your discussion, and hope you may effect a happy compromise." She was gone.
There was a moment's silence, and then the rippling music of her voice filled the halls and rooms of the great house.
"I wish the name she bears was rightfully hers, though I am glad she is not my sister," Abner said to himself. The same thought flashed through Oleah's mind, and, as usual, the mobile face betrayed his thoughts. Every one seemed always to understand his feelings.
Irene had just returned from school, an accomplished beauty and an acknowledged belle.
No wonder strange emotions stirred the hearts of the brothers, and that thoughts gained entrance in their breasts which might prove more disastrous than mere political differences.
The election of 1860 was an exciting one. No means were spared to poll every possible vote. Lincoln was the Republican candidate, Douglas a Northern, and Breckinridge a Southern Democrat, and Bell the Whig and "Know-Nothing" candidate, and all four parties worked vigorously.
Mr. Tompkins and his sons reached Snagtown early in the morning. The village was already alive with the stir and excitement. The polls opened at sunrise, and men were soon crowding around them, quarreling, disputing, joking. The morning air was crisp and frosty, and the people were compelled to walk about briskly to keep from being chilled.
A dirty faced urchin, with a pumpkin under one arm and some turnips under the other, paused in front of the polls, and, stretching out his neck like a young rooster achieving his first crow, bawled out:
It was the first patriotic wave which had caused an undulation of his infantile breast.