On the morning before the election, Jerry was putting me into the shafts, when Dolly came into the yard sobbing and crying, with her little blue frock and white pinafore spattered all over with mud.
"Why, Dolly, what is the matter?"
"Those naughty boys," she sobbed, "have thrown the dirt all over me, and called me a little raga-- raga--"
"They called her a little `blue' ragamuffin, father," said Harry, who ran in looking very angry; "but I have given it to them; they won't insult my sister again. I have given them a thrashing they will remember; a set of cowardly, rascally `orange' blackguards."
Jerry kissed the child and said, "Run in to mother, my pet, and tell her I think you had better stay at home to-day and help her."
Then turning gravely to Harry:
"My boy, I hope you will always defend your sister, and give anybody who insults her a good thrashing - that is as it should be; but mind, I won't have any election blackguarding on my premises.
There are as many `blue' blackguards as there are `orange', and as many white as there are purple, or any other color, and I won't have any of my family mixed up with it. Even women and children are ready to quarrel for the sake of a color, and not one in ten of them knows what it is about."
"Why, father, I thought blue was for Liberty."
"My boy, Liberty does not come from colors, they only show party, and all the liberty you can get out of them is, liberty to get drunk at other people's expense, liberty to ride to the poll in a dirty old cab, liberty to abuse any one that does not wear your color, and to shout yourself hoarse at what you only half-understand - that's your liberty!"
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