CHAPTER XIX.
THE PRIMARY.
After this rush of work, Peter's life became as routine as of yore.

The winter passed without an event worth noting, if we except a steadily growing acquaintance with the dwellers of the district.

But in July a new phase was injected into it by a call from Dennis Moriarty.
"Good-mornin' to yez, sir, an' a fine day it is," said the latter, with his usually breezy way.
"Yes," said Peter.
"Misther Stirling.

An' is it engaged yez are for this night ?" "No." Peter had nothing.
"Then," said Dennis, "maybe ye'll be afther goin' wid me to the primary ?" "What primary ?" "For the election of delegates to the convention, shure." "No.

What party ?" "What party is it ?" "Yes." "Misther Stirling, do yez know my name ?" "Dennis Moriarty, isn't it ?" "Yes.