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Twain, Mark, 1835-1910

"The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg and Other Stories"

No
one could guess what was going to happen, but every one felt that
something was going to happen, and hoped he might have a chance to see
it, or at least get the news of it while it was fresh.
At noon the House was empty--for I do not count myself. Half an hour
later the two galleries were solidly packed, the floor still empty.
Another half-hour later Wolf entered and passed to his place; then other
deputies began to stream in, among them many forms and faces grown
familiar of late. By one o'clock the membership was present in full
force. A band of Socialists stood grouped against the ministerial desks,
in the shadow of the Presidential tribune. It was observable that these
official strongholds were now protected against rushes by bolted gates,
and that these were in ward of servants wearing the House's livery. Also
the removable desk-boards had been taken away, and nothing left for
disorderly members to slat with.
There was a pervading, anxious hush--at least what stood very well for a
hush in that House.


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