While seated in the reading-room at Fuller's Hotel, about noon, on the day after my arrival in Washington, I noticed an individual, whose face looked familiar, come in and glance about, as if in search of some one. While yet questioning in my mind who he could be, I heard a man remark to a person with whom he had been conversing:
"There's that vagabond member away from his place in the House, again."
"Who?" inquired the other.
"Why, Judge Lyman," was answered.
"Oh!" said the other, indifferently; "it isn't of much consequence. Precious little wisdom does he add to that intelligent body."
"His vote is worth something, at least, when important questions are at stake."
"What does he charge for it?" was coolly inquired.
There was a shrug of the shoulders, and an arching of the eyebrows, but no answer.
