"Yes," said the Hatter. "It will be. Every employee in this Department will not only vote for me but will work for me as well. Same way in the gas plant and the trolley--in fact in all the City Departments. It is only another evidence of the very great value of Munic.i.p.al Ownership. It is uncertainty in political times that upsets business, but with the Munic.i.p.ality in control of all these Departments from Gas to Poetry there is no uncertainty about who will win, so that business is not unsettled by it."

"Wonderful," said Alice.

"By the way, Mr. Commissioner, you'd better start the Rhyming Bureau on the search for rhymes to Hatter at once," said, the Mayor. "We don't want to be caught unprepared at the last minute."

"The list is being compiled now," replied the Commissioner. "We already have, Matter, Batter, Tatter, Smatter Patter, Ratter, Spatter and Scatter."

"Fine!" chortled the Hatter.

"Don't forget Chatter," put in Alice.

"Thank you--I'll make a note of it," said the Commissioner.

"And Snatter," growled the March Hare gloomily, who evidently felt that somebody ought to be looking for rhymes to March Hare as well.

"What does snatter mean?" demanded the Hatter frowning.

"It's a corrupt form for s.n.a.t.c.her," retorted the March Hare. "One who s.n.a.t.c.hes everything he can lay his hands on, without regard to whether it's his by divine right or not. I guess they can use it in poems calling attention to your Civic Virtues."

"Except by unanimous vote of the Common Council over my veto Snatter stays out of the Munic.i.p.al Vocabulary," returned the Hatter coldly.

"Your own confession that it is corrupt is enough to condemn it with me."

"I wouldn't use batter either, Mr. Mayor," said the Commissioner.

"Batter is dough and we haven't got any worth mentioning."

"It is also to whack, slam, bang, bust, smack," retorted the Hatter, "so your recommendation is not accepted. Seems to me I can almost hear the campaign clubs singing as they march:

"O the n.o.ble, n.o.ble Hatter, Ain't he grand!

How his enemies do scatter Thro the land!

How his foemen he doth batter With their idle gloomy chatter On this Muni--c.i.p.al Matter Beats the band!"

"O Gee!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the March Hare. "Do you call that poetry?"

"Sir, I call it truth," returned the Hatter, "and poetry is truth just as art is truth, and if you don't believe it all you've got to do is to try and run against me next fall on that issue. I'll beat you to a stand-still."

"Of course you will," sighed the March Hare. "But you wouldn't but for that last ordinance you jammed through while I was off on my vacation."

"What was that?" demanded the Hatter.

"Giving the Election Commission absolute control over the votes, and then appointing yourself Election Commissioner ex-officio," said the March Hare. "I don't believe that Munic.i.p.al Control of the ballot is const.i.tutional."

"Well, it will be const.i.tutional," said the Hatter drily.

"When?" demanded the March Hare.

"When we secure Munic.i.p.al Control of the Const.i.tution," said the Hatter.

"I'll make it Const.i.tutional if I have to rewrite the whole blessed Const.i.tution myself."

Whereupon the Hatter walked majestically forth into the street once more, and Alice and the March Hare together with the White Knight followed meekly in his train.

CHAPTER VII

OWNERSHIP OF CHILDREN

"What time is it?" asked the Hatter, suddenly turning to the White Knight.

"Six o'clock," replied the White Knight, looking at his watch.

"Mercy!" cried Alice. "I had no idea it was so late! I shall have to run along home--it's supper time."

The Hatter laughed.

"O, as for that," he said, "there's no hurry. Under our present system of Munic.i.p.al Ownership of Everything, I can issue, as Mayor, a general order postponing the Munic.i.p.al Supper Hour to seven or eight o clock.

Still--if you'd prefer to go home----"

"I don't want to," said Alice courteously, "but I think I'd better. My mother would be worried not finding me in the nursery. You see, I left home without telling anybody where I was going."

Again the Hatter laughed.

"What foolishness!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "That's the great trouble with the private ownership of children. It worries their poor mothers, keeps 'em from their daily Bridge parties, interferes with that freedom of action which is guaranteed to the individual by the contravention of the United States----"

"Const.i.tution, I guess you mean," suggested Alice.

"It used to be the Const.i.tution," returned the Hatter, "but now it's the Contravention. It has been contravened so often in the past few years that our Reformed Language Commission at Washington has named it accordingly."

"It simply bears out what you said in your message approving the Public Ownership of Children Act pa.s.sed by the Common Council last November, which I wrote for you, and consequently consider a very able doc.u.ment,"

said the White Knight.

"The Public Ownership of Children?" cried Alice, with a look of alarm on her face.

"Yes," said the Hatter. "Just as the Nation has gone in for paternalism, we here in Blunderland have gone in for maternalism. The children here belong to the city----"

"But--" Alice began.

"Now, don't bother," said the Hatter kindly. "It works very well. It has reduced children to a state of scientific control which is as careful and as effective as that of the street cleaning department or the public parks, and it has emanc.i.p.ated the mothers as well as materially decreased the financial obligations of the fathers."

Alice's lip quivered slightly, and she began to feel a little bit afraid of the Hatter.

"I want to go home," she whimpered.

"Certainly--as you wish," said the Hatter. "We'll take you there at once. Come along."

Rea.s.sured by the Hatter's kindly manner Alice took her companion's outstretched hand and they walked along the highway together until they came to a handsome apartment house fronting upon a beautiful park, where the Hatter pressed an electric b.u.t.ton at one side of the ma.s.sive entrance. The response to the bell was immediate, and Alice was pleased to find that the person to answer was none other than the d.u.c.h.ess herself.

"Why, how-di-doo," said the d.u.c.h.ess affably. "Glad to see you again, Miss Alice."