The notion that two years' service in so important an
office as that of Mayor of Dumfries Corners received as its sole reward
nothing but lamps was to her mind impossible.
"Is--is there anything the matter with you, dear?" she asked, placing
her hand on his brow. "You don't seem feverish."
"Feverish?" snapped the leader of his party. "Who said anything about my
being feverish?"
"Nobody, Teddy dear; but what you said about lamps made me think--made
me think your mind was wandering a trifle."
"Oh--that!" laughed Perkins. "No, indeed--it's true. They always give
the Mayor a pair of lamps. Some of them are very swell, too. You know
those wrought-iron standards that Mr. Berkeley has in front of his
place?"
"The ones at the driveway entrance, on the bowlders?"
"Yes."
"They're beauties. I've always admired those lamps very much."
"Well--they are the rewards of Mr. Berkeley's political virtue. I paid
for them, and so did all the rest of the tax-payers. They are his
Mayor's lamps, and if I'm elected I'll have a pair just like them, if I
want them like that."
"Oh, I do hope you'll get in, Teddy," said the little woman, anxiously,
after a reflective pause. "They'd look stunning on our gate-posts."
"I don't think I shall have them there," said Thaddeus. "Jiggers has the
right idea, seems to me--he's put 'em on the newel-posts of his front
porch steps."
"I don't suppose they'd give us the money and let us buy one handsome
cloisonne lamp from Tiffany's, would they?" Mrs.
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