University of Virginia Library

29. CHAPTER XXIX.
WALTER GOES TO WASHINGTON—OFFICE-HUNTING—TIPPING.

When Walter had taken leave of his Aunt Wilsome, carelessly
placing the check she gave him in an outside pocket of his
overcoat, he hastened to the hotel to join Mr. Plastic, the
member of Congress from his district, with whom he was to
proceed to Washington.

Mr. Plastic, like many other members newly elected, or
just re-elected, without having been blessed with an inordinate
share of intellect, and without having acquired a greater
amount of information than a majority of his contemporaries,
was nevertheless oppressed with a superabundance of vanity,
and was known by his most intimate acquaintances to be an
egregious egotist. But among strangers, in the reading rooms
and parlors of the hotels, he could pass for a great man; and
he was gratified to overhear the waiters and porters say, “he's
a member of Congress;” and to observe the guests turn and
look at him, as he promenaded between the bar and the hall
door. Without any other qualifications than an exceedingly
numerous and influential connection, and a vast amount of
wealth, Mr. Plastic had been lifted from obscurity by Walter's
father, and by his means was nominated and elected to the

legislature; and after Mr. Winkle's death he had succeeded
him in Congress.

“Well, Mr. Plastic,” said Walter, when they were seated
in the car, “I suppose my case will soon be decided. I am a
novice, however, and it may be well to have an interview with
Mrs. Honoria F., before we proceed farther.”

“Leave it to me. I will see the President immediately
after our arrival. Mrs. Fimble, I know, has some influence.”

“And that may be obtained, I suppose?”

“You are a wild fellow! But take care you do not let
any of your light remarks reach her ears. In Washington
every word spoken is heard, and if it can be used to injure
any one it will be repeated. Mrs. F. is thought to be potential
at Washington, both in the executive departments, and in
the lobbies, library, and committee rooms of the capitol. But
the President will see me. I have been freshly indorsed by
my people, and he will congratulate me on my victory over
Roland. We must speak lower. They are staring at me.”

At the mention of his triumph over Roland, a tall, gray-haired
gentleman sitting in front, turned round and bowed to
Plastic.

“How do you do, Mr. Bell? I am glad to see you, sir,”
said Plastic. “I have been delayed in making my appearance
at the capitol by illness in my family. But I see they have
put me at the head of a committee.”

“I see they have,” said Mr. Bell. “The committee
on—”

Plastic's voice had been sufficiently loud to attract general
attention. But Mr. Bell's announcement had produced
quite a commotion; for a majority of the male passengers
were either office-seekers, or the prosecutors of claims before
Congress.

Walter was surprised at the sensation exhibited in front
and on either side of him. He then turned his head to see
what had been the effect in the rear. Immediately behind
him sat a jovial Irishman, who gave him a wink, and an intelligent
smile, which, however, Walter was unable at first to comprehend.
But after some reflection, and a few more exchanges
of glances, he recollected having seen the man before, and
bowed to him.

“I think we have met somewhere,” said Walter.

“You may say that, Mr. Winkle, and tell the truth.”

“Where it was, or when, I confess I do not remember.
But as you seem to know my name, perhaps you will tell me
yours.”

“Patrick McClusky,” said the other, in a low voice.

“Oh, I recollect, now,” said Walter, in a whisper. Patrick
was one of the prisoners at the station on the night of Walter's
capture at Professor Point's. He was the keeper of an oyster
house, and had somehow got mixed up in a row at the bar,
where some one had condemned his brandy. Walter only recollected
his name, but could easily recognize his voice, for he
had often heard him, at his bar, cry out, “Boy, stew!” “mint
julep,” &c.

“See Mrs Famble,” said Patrick, “that's what I would
recommind to ye.”

“And where are you going, Patrick?”

“Afther an office, too. I want an inspectorship. But I
nadn't see the Prisident, nor the Secretary nader. Masthress
Honoria Famble will fax my business.” He added in a low
whisper—“I'm going to pay her a faa of fafty dollars for her
sarvices.”

“And this young gentleman,” said Mr. Bell, addressing
himself indirectly to Walter, “you say is the son of my old
friend Winkle? Sir,” he continued, shaking Walter's hand,
“your father was one of the most independent men in Congress.
I knew him well, and loved him. And I am sorry to
learn his affairs fell into such embarrassment, that his son is
under the necessity of taking so desperate a step as to become
an office-seeker.”

“I hope, sir,” said Walter, “the step will not be so disagreeable.
If I am not mistaken, you have recently received
an appointment.”

“Very true. My fortune having been ruined by one I
confided in, my friends demanded an office for me. The President
very kindly acceded to the request, and my name was
sent into the Senate, and there it remains—and I fear it will
remain, unless I can satisfactorily divide some forty minor
salaries within my gift among the five hundred friends of the
Senators. It is a problem I fear which cannot be solved—a
price I cannot pay for the office. I regret that my friends
proposed my name; but having been nominated, I must defend
my character.”

“Defend your character, Mr. Bell?” exclaimed Walter,

“I have heard my father say that no man enjoyed a better
reputation—”

“It may have been so during his life, and when I was not
an applicant for office. But the most immaculate character is
easily tarnished, when hung up in the Senate as a common
mark for the slanders of defeated competitors, and their hosts
of disappointed dependents. Rely upon it, young man, if you
succeed in obtaining the nomination you seek, that every act
of your life will be canvassed in the Senate. Your college
spress, your midnight rambles, your thoughtless words, your
lightest acts, will be remembered. But these will be the
least of your torments. A thousand slanders will be fabricated—”

“If so, the authors of them shall answer it!”

“If you lose your temper you are lost. No. Follow my
example. Get some friend to furnish a list of the charges—
and then refute them. Leave the rest to Providence. If
you be rejected, with your character saved, retire from the
field, and congratulate yourself on so fortunate an escape.”

“Go to Misthress Famble,” whispered Patrick.

“Might I not succeed,” asked Walter, “by securing the
services of Mrs. Fimble?”

“Yes—by conciliating her, you might succeed—but it
would be at the expense of your honor. I am determined to
defy her opposition, since I learn she opposed my appointment.”
Mr. Bell said this with a quivering lip, and then
turned away his face.

When they reached Washington, Walter put up at one of
the principal hotels, where his friend Plastic had previously
engaged a suite of rooms, in conjunction with several of the
members from his State. Walter and Mr. Bell obtained lodgings
in the same room. Mr. Bell threw out several hints to
his young and inexperienced friend, in regard to the expense
of living in Washington, and particularly at the hotels. But
Walter, not doubting his appointment would soon be procured
through the influence of Plastic, had no apprehensions that
his finances would be exhausted before he could replenish them
from the public treasury.

“Be not too sure of that,” said his aged friend. “You
may have to dance attendance here for many months. Your
friend Plastic is not omnipotent. His influence is not so great
as he supposes. It is true he has a vote, and that the administration

will wish to secure—but he is a weak man. My
advice is, that you look for cheap lodgings, and count your
money.”

This conversation took place just before the hour of retiring
on the evening of their arrival; and Walter involuntarily
drew out his purse and reckoned his gold on the small table
before the fire.

“Here are one hundred and ten dollars,” said he, in gold.
That is my whole fortune. No!” he continued, starting up,
and searching the pockets of his overcoat. “My aunt Winkle
gave me a check, which I placed among my letters. Here are
the letters, but I don't see the check.”

“I remember seeing your papers scattered about on the
floor of the car,” said Mr. Bell. “I hope your check did not
fall with them.”

“It must have been so. Patrick handed them to me. I
hope he didn't keep my check.”

“Patrick? What Patrick?”

“Patrick McClusky.”

“A great scamp! he is one of my enemies. He applied
to me for a clerkship—or rather demanded it in an epistle
which I could scarcely read; the grammar, orthography and
chirography all being detestable. I wrote him back that my
subordinates must at least be capable of discharging the
duties assigned them, which he could never do, judging from
the epistolary specimen before me. The rascal then sent me
an impudent reply, saying he would apply to my `batters.'
No doubt he stole your check. For what amount was it?”

“Upon my word I don't know, I did not look at it.”

“Then you can't tell where it was payable, or whether it
was drawn to order or bearer. Write immediately to your
aunt, and have the payment stopped. But what's that?”

A servant entered bearing a clumsily folded letter superscribed:
“Tow Mr. Walther Wankle Esqr.”

“That rascal has your check!” said Mr. Bell, “and it is
payable to order. He wants your signature.”

“From the looks of his handwriting,” said Walter, “he
would hardly be able to make a fortune by forging other
people's names. But here's a postscript.” He then read
aloud the following: “P s misthress famble ses thae bell
hung up in the senat won't wring onles she puls the klaper

“P. McC.”

“It is certain I shall not apply to Mrs. Fimble, at all
events,” said Mr. Bell.

“Is it true she has such influence?” asked Walter.

“It may be so. It is strongly suspected. Her husband
and herself—it is said they are man and wife, but no one ever
heard of them before they came here—live in the most expensive
manner, and by some means they have an abundance
of money, and find access to all the functionaries of the
government. It is a mystery. He is a handsome man, his
face exhibiting all the evidences of luxurious living, and she
is certainly one of the most beautiful women I ever beheld.
They sat nearly opposite at the table—”

“Was that Mrs. Fimble?” asked Walter, with much
interest.

“It was. And the Irishman, I doubt not, reported her
words correctly, although his pen has given them a different
pronunciation. She is not only handsome, as you are ready
to admit, but she is accomplished in intrigue, and really
charms many of the old senators by the fascinations of her
conversation.”

“Was not that the senator from — at her side?”

“It was. And because I did not speak to the lady, she
may compel him to vote against me. I care not. But I
warn you against the Fimbles, unless you are prepared to pay
them tribute.”

“From what McClusky says, it would seem the lady is
favorably disposed towards me.”

“Beware of her! She might, however, if she were to entertain
a partiality for you—and I should not be surprised at
it, seeing your form and address—facilitate your object. But

then, I doubt if you would choose to be indebted to any petticoat
influence for your office.”

Walter admitted that he would prefer to be appointed on
the ground of his own merit. Nevertheless, he would not
banish from his memory the image of the beautiful creature
he had seen at the supper-table. And he retired to his couch
without either writing to his aunt or answering Paddy's
letter.

The next day Mr. Plastic accompanied Walter to the
White House. The M. C. from — obtained admittance
without difficulty. He scarcely deigned to bestow a passing
glance on the doorkeeper, that great personage whose favorable
attention so many others strove in vain to win.

Plastic approached the President with the utmost familiarity
and confidence, and presented his young friend almost in
tones of exultation.

“I am glad to see you, gentlemen,” said the President.
“Sit down. Winkle? Did you say Winkle?”

“Yes, sir,” said Plastic, while Walter was amused at the
President's seeming sincerity of manner.

“Why, sir,” said the President, addressing the young
man, “I knew your father well. He was my friend. A brave
and honorable gentleman. It gives me pleasure to meet the
son of one I esteemed so highly; a son, no doubt, worthy of
so true a sire.”

“I have no doubt,” said Plastic, “you read my young
friend's speech at Babbleton. It was terse, concentrated,
original, and effective. It contributed much to secure my
election.”

“Oh, certainly! I recollect it distinctly. We had it
before the cabinet, and it was pronounced the boldest and best
thing that had occurred during the canvass. My young friend,
the administration is much indebted to you; and it will afford
me pleasure to serve you in any way in my power.”

Walter bowed, thinking such a gesture could never be
more appropriate than just at that time.

“That is coming to the point, Mr. President,” said Plastic.
“My young friend desires to visit England; and Col.
Oakdale, who you know will certainly be chosen senator by
the Legislature now in session, and myself, have agreed to
unite in asking for him the office of Secretary of Legation, or
Consul at London.”

“Well—let me see—I do not know that they have been
irrevocably promised to others; and I am sure no one can
produce better claims. Col. Oakdale and yourself are entitled
to demand something for your friend; and, besides, my
young friend has claims of his own, both on account of his
father's services and his own merits.”

“I am sure, sir,” said Walter, “I am deeply indebted to
you for your kind expression.”

“Kind expressions merely, my friend,” said the President,
“are not deemed of much value here,—eh, Plastic?”

“No, indeed,” said Plastic. “They are as plenty as
blackberries, and as cheap as Potomac herrings. You will be
overwhelmed with them in this city, and might starve on them,
if the President were not truly your friend.”

“True, Plastic,” said his excellency. “But I will be his
friend, both on account of his father's services and his own
claims.” He then wrote the following familiar note to the
Secretary of State—“Mr. Walter Winkle, the son of an old
friend from —, is an applicant for the office of Secretary
of Legation in London. I wish him to have the appointment;
or else the Consulate at the same place. Let me know
immediately which would be the most agreeable and advantageous
position; and which has the fewest obstacles in the
way.”

Walter ran his eye over the note while the President and
Plastic were discussing some point of policy in reference to
the business before the House of Representatives. Although
he was not sure that he comprehended the last line, yet he
supposed the note upon the whole very satisfactory.

The interview with the President being ended, Walter
and his friend proceeded next to the Department of State.
After some little delay, just sufficient to indicate the importance
of the chief diplomatic functionary, they were admitted.
The eyes of the secretary dilated when, after the ceremony of
introduction they fell upon the Presidential seal of the note
produced by the young man; and his brows were slightly
contracted when be perused the lines. It was one of those
cases in which the usual preliminary consultation had not been
had with the head of the department—in which, indeed, a stride
had been made over the secretary by the applicant and his
friend. They had, nevertheless, been sent down to him by the
President himself, and the parties were to be convinced matters

of that nature and magnitude could not be accomplished
without his participation in the work.

After a silence of several minutes, the secretary remarked
that the President's request should be complied with; and
Walter uttered a profusion of acknowledgments.

“It will certainly be a pleasure for me to remove any of
the obstacles the President alludes to,” said the secretary, and
then added, “if it be in my power to do so.”

“I understand,” said the young man, “that both places are
vacant, or will soon be so.”

“That is very true. But the obstacles do not lie in that
direction. There is never any difficulty in finding or making
vacancies. One half of our agents abroad are utterly incompetent,
and the other moiety are unfaithful, so that there are
always a sufficient number ripe for removal. The difficulty is
in deciding who shall succeed them. Among the many applicants,
it is a very embarrassing operation to determine whose
claims are the strongest.”

“I hoped,” said Walter, “there were but few if any applications,
as yet, for either of the positions. The President did
not intimate there were any.”

“He did not mention them, but the obstacles he refers to
relate to other applicants. Mr. Boozle,” said the minister,
addressing his private secretary in the next room, “let me see
the number of applications for the two vacant places in London.”

A moment after Mr. Boozle came in, preceded by a messenger
bearing a large basket filled with bundles of papers.

“I did not desire to know how many bushels,” said the
great diplomatic functionary, “but the number.”

“These are the applications for the consulate,” said Boozle.
“They number seven hundred. There are two baskets
for the other, numbering a thousand.”

“That is all, Boozle?” said the minister, smiling at the
dismay of Walter.

“But,” said Plastic with an air of importance, and recollecting
that he had been requested by the President to oppose
a motion in the House for the production of a certain diplomatic
correspondence, which it was understood the secretary
was averse to having made public, “I presume the claims of
my friend cannot be inferior to any.”

“Unquestionably not! It is true there are among the applicants

several nephews of former Presidents, and, indeed a
near relative of the present incumbent, and many sons and
nephews of ex-secretaries and senators. But you know our
organ has condemned nepotism, and therefore we are committed
against it. Besides, we are quite secure in the Senate,
while the majority in the House is less reliable. I was astonished
to see the motion entertained for the production of the
Algerine correspondence.”

“Oh, we'll vote it down to-day. And I must hasten to
the capitol. I hope, Mr. Secretary, there will be no delay in
this business of my young friend.”

“I think not. I will immediately send the information
required to the President. I shall be happy to see you again
to-morrow, Mr. Winkle.”

Plastic and Walter withdrew; but before they left the
building, the former was called aside by Mr. Boozle, who desired
a few moments' conversation in private.

When the member rejoined his young friend, it was with a
troubled countenance, real or affected. “Such profligacy!”
said he; “such monstrous corruption, was never heard of before,
and surely never existed in any other government.”

“It is some state secret, I suppose,” said Walter, “which
none but officials should know.”

“None but rogues, it seems to me,” said Plastic. “I will
tell you in the strictest confidence,” he continued, as they walked
along. “Boozle assures me that both places have been already
promised to the protegés of two members.”

“By the President?”

“I suppose so—certainly by the secretary. They must
have forgotten it in the multiplicity of their engagements.”

“I have read somewhere,” said Walter, “that great public
functionaries possess the faculty of forgetfulness. I hope this
Mr. Boozle will not take it upon himself to remind them of
their former promises; and I will dance attendance upon them
so incessantly they shall not be able to forget their pledges to
me. And I had better tip this private secretary in the manner
described by Gil Blas, when he was confidential secretary of
the Spanish minister. But I have not the means. I might,
however, make him a promise you know.”

“You have read to some purpose, Walter, and I think you
will have the address to carry your point. But the matter

stands thus: The members referred to make politics a trade.
You understand?”

“Perfectly, I think. They are likewise to be tipped. But
where would be the incumbent's compensation.”

“The consulship is worth $5,000 per annum, with the
perquisites, which can be realized by good management.”

“Well. The two members conciliated, how shall we dispose
of the two protegés? Tip them too?”

“Only one of them can be disappointed, you know.”

“Exactly, I cannot have both offices. And therefore but one
of the members will have to be tipped, unless you take—”

“Me? Don't suppose any thing of the kind! I should be
offended if I thought you capable of conceiving such an idea.
But the applicants who have obtained the promises had agreed
to pay the members ten per cent. of their salaries, fees and
perquisites; and I understand they have already advanced certain
sums. The member who will have to relinquish the appointment
procured for his friend, will have to refund, and
that would be inconvenient.”

“Unless I reimbursed the amount.”

“Precisely so. Are you prepared to do it?”

“But the one that had the promise? How will they dispose
of him?”

“Boozle says that can be managed. A previous promise
to you, which had been forgotten. Something of that sort.
But are you prepared to furnish Boozle the means to tip the
member?”

“Will he furnish me the name of the member, so that I
can treat with him directly?”

“I think not.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Yes—but I am bound in honor not to divulge it.”

“Will you not see him for me, so there can be no necessity
for the interposition of Boozle?”

“Yes. I will undertake to pay him the amount you send.”

“I shall send him nothing.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“To punish him.

“Punish him?”

“Yes. He's a scoundrel, and you must tell me his name.”

“I shall do no such thing!”

“Then I will hold you responsible. Good day, sir! The

only way in which I can be conciliated will be the immediate
notification of my appointment. You can now test the extent
of your influence.”

And Walter turned away from the astonished member,
boiling with indignation and anger, and resolved at the instant
to make a public exposure of the corrupt practices of the trading
politicians. But before he reached his lodgings he had
time to reflect that the revelation had been confidentially made,
and that it would be out of his power to avail himself of it in
the manner he at first intended.

In the afternoon, as Walter was sitting in his room pondering
over the events of the morning, he was startled by the
abrupt entrance of Mr. Bell, who held in his hand a large envelope,
bearing the broad seal of the government.

“I hope you have your commission, sir,” said Walter.

“Yes—you may congratulate me on my victory,” said Mr.
Bell; “but I had hard fighting for it. I preferred a final decision
to further delay. This is the tenth time I have been
to Washington on this business, and I resolved it should be
the last. They confirmed me by a majority of one, and that
result was obtained by stratagem.”

“Stratagem?”

“I had to enter the lists against Mrs. Fimble, and I out-generalled
her. My friend from Virginia conceived the idea,
and I acted by his advice. When the Senate was about to go
into executive session, we contrived to have an album sent to
Mr. — for his autograph. He was told it was for Mrs.
Fimble, who was about to leave the city. He wrote his name
in the book, and then followed the boy, who soon eluded him.
Now Mr. —, like many others, had been fascinated by
the beauty of Mrs. F., and the charms of her conversation.
Although quite seventy years old, Mr. — took such delight
in conducting the young lady to the levees and soirees,
and along the avenue, that he could not bear the thought of
being deprived of that pleasure so abruptly, and so he resolved
to seek an interview, and know the reason why she was departing
so unceremoniously. He found her here, in her suite
of apartments, surrounded by the wives and daughters of the
functionaries of the government, and I need not tell you their
surprise was mutual, when the object of his visit had been explained,
which did not occur for more than an hour. He hastened
back to the capitol, but the Senate had adjourned just

as he descended from his carriage. My friend from Virginia
met him, and taking his arm, kept his attention fixed upon
other matters of public importance, until I had time to procure
my commission. I shall leave by the next train—and I
think you had better go with me. You shall have an office in
the city in my department.”

“And deprive my friend, Patrick McClusky?”

“Yes—all the paddies in the world. I see you and I understand
each other. We are both Know Nothings, and we
have the same mission. The secretary has given me a list of
names, from which he says the President and himself desire
me to select three fourths of my subordinates. One third of
them are foreigners, and at least one fourth are grog-sellers.
I shall not obey. They may remove me from office; but I
will not be moved from my determination. If one is to be
responsible for the faithful performance of the duties of his office,
he ought to enjoy the privilege of selecting honest and
capable subordinates.”

“I agree with you, most heartily. But I suppose my appointment
will be sent in to-day or to-morrow.”

Walter then related the substance of his interview with
the President and the secretary. But Mr. Bell shook his
head incredulously, though at the same time wishing his young
friend every success. He could not forbear telling him, however,
that the appointment which had been conferred on him
had previously been promised another, and that he had been
surprised when he heard his name was sent up to the Senate.
“There is many a slip,” said he, “between the cup and the
lip; and if you should be disappointed, come to me. But
have the matter brought to a speedy conclusion.” He then
took leave of Walter, as it was near the time when the next
train left the city. He promised to see Miss Wilsome Winkle,
and learn something further in relation to the lost check, not
doubting McClusky knew all about it. If it had been presented
under a forged indorsement, the exposure of the rascal
would at least dispose of his pretensions for office, and it might
be the means of putting some money in Walter's purse.

A short time after the departure of Mr. Bell, Walter was
waited on by Mr. Boozle, who bore him the comfortable assurance
that from what he could learn at the White House,
and at the Department, it was settled that he should be appointed
consul to London. A new minister was to go to

England, and as the secretary of legation was a sort of confidential
clerk to the plenipotentiary, that functionary was
usually consulted, and the selection made among his personal
acquaintances. For that reason Walter had been selected
for the consulate. Boozle did not intimate any thing about
the tipping portion of the negotiation; but merely congratulated
his young friend on his prompt success.