"Well,"
said he, "why don't you go into the gallery?" I explained that it
was full, and I had tried every access, but found all jammed with
people. "Well," said he, "what do you want of me?" I explained
that I would like him to take me on the floor of the Senate; that I
had often seen from the gallery persons on the floor, no better
entitled to it than I. He then asked in his quizzical way, "Are
you a foreign embassador?" "No." "Are you the Governor of a
State?" "No." "Are you a member of the other House?" "Certainly
not" "Have you ever had a vote of thanks by name?" "No!" "Well,
these are the only privileged members." I then told him he knew
well enough who I was, and that if he chose he could take me in.
He then said, "Have you any impudence?" I told him, "A reasonable
amount if occasion called for it." "Do you think you could become
so interested in my conversation as not to notice the door-keeper?"
(pointing to him). I told him that there was not the least doubt
of it, if he would tell me one of his funny stories. He then took
my arm, and led me a turn in the vestibule, talking about some
indifferent matter, but all the time directing my looks to his left
hand, toward which he was gesticulating with his right; and thus we
approached the door-keeper, who began asking me, "Foreign
ambassador? Governor of a State? Member of Congress?" etc.
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