The older peasants would stand openmouthed before the sign-boards. Then pushing back their caps and thrusting their hands deep down into their pockets, they would shuffle away, shaking their heads, as though in disapproval of the pettiness of the conflict.

It was almost impossible to obtain from any one of them a personal opinion as to the merits of the candidates. Their answers to all questions were exceedingly polite, but non-committal. "Well, Père Launay, what do you think of Dr. Dubois?"

"Oh, he is a good man enough, very amiable and kind-hearted."

"And the Count of Pontfarci?"

Why, he comes from one of our oldest families. He's good as gold and not in the least stuck up.”

"How about the professor?"

"Think of all the learning in his head! You can't beat him for talking."

Though accustomed to this habitual reticence, the candidates were somewhat dismayed by its obstinacy, which permitted none of them to judge of the headway gained or lost, and each was in despair, and seemed to be beating about the bush in search of a plan which would instantly make him the most popular man in Normandy.

Presently the doctor announced his intention of giving a flag to the firemen.

""T is an honor for the brigade and for the district," was the most enthusiastic comment this genial idea provoked.

The day of the presentation, the firemen were again drawn up in review; another and stronger punch was bountifully provided, and Dubois nearly died of congestion from having stood too long in the blistering sun haranguing his fellow-citi

zens.

To parry this blow, the most noble of Christian Socialists offered a banner to the parish church. The curate, delighted, organized a procession so that all might rejoice in the sight of this newly acquired church ornament. Early on Sunday morning, peasants from all the outlying farms and neighboring districts, attired in their festive garments, began flocking into our little village. Our own community turned out in a body, and every one seemed overjoyed, save the doctor, whose heart sank into his boots when he saw the same man

who three days before bore his tricolored emblem now proudly carrying the sacred banner of his hated rival.

To get the better of these gifts, Professor Leputois sent an autographed copy of his book, "The Utility of Statistics and Their Employ," to every family, who promptly put the volume as an ornament in the place of honor on the best table, along with photograph-albums and other souvenirs.

The economical doctor must have obtained his flags at wholesale prices, and the count surely bought his banners by the dozen. As for the professor, he exhausted the entire edition of his book, and throughout all the neighboring villages and hamlets firemen, clergy, and peasants were unanimous in lauding the munificence of the candidates.

The journalistic part of the campaign is not as important as it might be in a larger center, owing to the fact that there is only one paper in our district. The first sheet of the "Coutances Gazette" is necessarily filled with legal announcements, births, deaths, etc., and this year each of our candidates rented one of the three remaining pages, from which they continued to hurl verbal bombs into one another's camps. In the inns and drinkinghouses it was no rare sight to see the better-instructed peasants reading the news to their fellows, grouped about the tables. deeply absorbed in dominoes. Never yet has any startling political verbiage been able to distract their attention from their favorite game.

It was very difficult to tell which of the candidates would be most likely to make the trip to Paris. The chances seemed so evenly balanced that interest in the campaign had begun to wane a trifle when a most important announcement was placarded on the walls.

The Count of Pontfarci, Dr. Dubois, and Professor Leputois had organized a mass-meeting to be held at the nearest town. Each was to appear in turn upon the platform, and would try to "embalm his adversary in the liquid amber of his remarks."

I would n't have missed that controversy for worlds. So at an early hour we drove to Cerences. The meeting was called at eight P.M. in an immense shed adjoining the Hôtel de la Pomme d'Or,

That representative of one of the best Norman families, elegantly attired in evening clothes, and wearing a camellia in his buttonhole, stepped to the front.

"Gentlemen and dear fellow-citizens," he began in a well-poised voice.

"La calotte! Hou! hou!" ("Down with the church!") shrieked half the assembly, while the other half burst forth into applause. It was plainly evident that they had no intention of letting him speak; yet he bravely continued, and above the uproar one could now and again catch such words as "France," "duty," "country."

Finally realizing the uselessness of trying to combat such an explosion, the count wisely curtailed his address and, after a polite bow, retired.

Still the tumult continued. It seemed as if the fight for supremacy depended upon the strength of the assembly's vocal organs. When one side would begin to howl "La Carmagnole," the Revolutionary song, the other would instantly try to drown it by

"Sauvez Rome et la France,

Au nom du Sacré Cœur."

In the meantime the valiant doctor had taken his place, and literally foaming at the mouth, his eyes popping from their sockets, he stood there wasting his energy on an uproarious assembly, which seemed to ignore his existence. He was no luckier than the count. "France," "democracy," "liberty" were the only parts of his discourse which reached my ears.

He was instantly replaced by Professor Leputois. No sooner had he opened his mouth than a huge cabbage, aimed by a master hand, closed it most forcibly, and sent the unfortunate advocate of statistics sprawling beneath the table.

That was the last straw. All bonds were now loosened, and the three rival parties began to demonstrate their rights. to existence in a most strenuous manner. They were no respecters of persons, and in one corner I saw two sturdy brutes wildly shaking a helpless old gentleman, whose cane was waving above his head.

Behind me I could hear Mme. Frémont expostulating indignantly.

"To think of getting into such a state over politics! The best man of the whole lot is not wise enough to cut down our taxrate, is he?" And as a conclusion to her argument, she turned off the gas-meter.

Finding themselves in total darkness, the crowd suddenly quieted down, and presently a ripple of laughter spread over the entire assembly, and the exit was accomplished amid general good humor and without further incident.

Scarcely a fortnight before election the news circulated that a fourth candidate had appeared to compete with our already famous trio. True enough, a few modest pasters announced "Lechaptois, Cattledealer, Republican."

This created a sensation, and all the old busybodies from the inn to the smithies stood on their door-steps and openly discussed his haughty pretensions.

"Who 'd have ever thought it? Lechaptois! Big, fat Lechaptois, a man who began life empty-handed!"

Truth to tell, the fourth aspirant was anything but interesting-looking. A broadshouldered, heavily built Norman peasant, Lechaptois, like men of his class, wore a long, blue blouse, with a woolen cap pulled down over his eyes. He evidently had no intention of letting his political career interfere with his business, and could be seen driving about in a rickety

farm-wagon, carrying a load of bleating calves. He had the reputation for driving hard bargains and making close business deals. He was at the same time the joy and the terror of all the county fairs and weekly markets, and woe unto the man who tried to deceive him!

"I hear you 're out for deputy, Lechaptois," ventured a more intimate acquain

tance.

"Why not I as well as any one else? A man who 's got the coin goes where he pleases, my boy, and I 'll bet you anything I'll pan out as handsome as that creampuff of a doctor when I get on my frockcoat and stovepipe."

"But what 'll you have to say if you do get into the chamber?"

"Nothing. Take it from me, the fellow who knows how to keep his mouth shut is worth all the chatterers on earth. And to think it is I who should teach you that! Well! well!"

That was the extent of Lechaptois's electoral campaign.

The eventful day finally arrived. The polls opened at sunrise in the school-house, and the counting began as soon as night fell.

The count received five votes, the doctor three, the professor one, and Lechaptois forty-seven.

He was elected representative from our district by a crushing majority of four thousand.