Hang Far was at his bedside many
hours each day. Alice often found them chatting animatedly.
"When I get plenty well, we mally," Po informed her. "Maybeso go back to
China. What you say, Missee Alice?"
"I think you'd better stay with me," she countered. "As for Hang Far,
we'll find room for her." She smiled dolefully. "I'm getting to be an
old lady, Po Lun ... I need more help in the house."
"You nebbeh get old, Missee Alice," said the sick man. "Twenty yea' I
know you--always like li'l gi'l."
"Nonsense, Po!" cried Alice. Nevertheless she was pleased. "Will you and
Hang Far stay with me?"
"I t'ink so, Missee," Po replied. "By 'n' by we take one li'l tlip fo'
honeymoon. But plitty soon come back."
* * * * *
The labor movement grew and Dennis with it--both in self-importance and
in popularity. He went about the State making speeches, threatening the
"shoddy aristocrats who want an emperor and a standing army to shoot
down the people."
Every Sunday he harangued a crowd of his adherents on a sand-lot near
the city hall and owing to this fact his followers were dubbed "The
Sand-Lot Party." One day Robert, after hearing them discourse, returned
home shaken and angry.
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