Here, Mr. Parsons, the proprietor, had set out a most
tempting lunch in the large dining-room, and those who were able to give
the password were admitted to the room, and feasted to their heart's
content.
Abner Stiles, impelled by curiosity, had followed the party, and had
noticed that each one said something to the proprietor before he was
admitted to the dining-room. Going up to Parsons, he said, "What's goin'
on in there?"
"Oh, I guess they're having a caucus," replied Mr. Parsons.
"When thet last feller went in," said Abner, "I saw that the table was
all set, and I kinder 'magined they must be havin' a dinner. I'd kinder
like some myself."
"Well, I'm sorry," said Mr. Parsons, "but I cannot accommodate any more
than have already applied. You can get a lunch over to the railroad
station, you know, if you want one."
"I know," answered Abner, "but I kinder 'magine they're talkin' over
'lection matters in there, and I'd rather like ter know what's goin'
on."
"Well, I guess you'll find out when they get back to the Town Hall,"
remarked Mr. Parsons; and he stepped forward to greet three or four
other citizens, who leaned over and whispered in his ear.
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