60. CHAPTER LX.
POLITICS.
“In course; I sez to ma—why, Lord bless me, it must have
been three or four years ago—that 'twould all turn out so.
What's rotten will come to pieces, ma, sez I. Every year she
sez to me, sez she, why ain't the Newts failed yet? as you
said they was going to. Jest you be quiet, sez I, ma, it's comin'.
So 'twas. I know'd all about it.”
President Van Boozenberg thus unburdened his mind and
justified his vaticinations to the knot of gentlemen who were
perpetually at the bank. They listened, and said ah! and yes,
and shook their heads; and the shaky ones wondered whether
the astute financier had marked them and had said to ma,
sez he, that for all they looked so bright and crowded canvas
so smartly, they are shaky, ma—shaky.
General Belch heard the news at his office. He was sitting
on the end of his back-bone, which was supported on the two
hind legs of a wooden chair, while the two fore legs and his
own were lifted in the air. His own, however, went up at a
more precipitate angle and rested with the feet apart upon the
mantle. By a skillful muscular process the General ejected
tobacco juice from his mouth, between his legs, and usually
[ILLUSTRATION]
Patriotism.
[Description: 538EAF. Page 351. In-line Illustration. Image of two seated men. One man sits facing a fire with his feet up on the fireplace mantle. The other man is next to the fireplace. Both men have grimaced looks on their faces.]
lodged it in the grate before him. It was evident, however,
that many of his friends had not been so successful, for the
grate, the hearth, and the neighboring floor were spotted with
the fluid.
The Honorable Mr. Ele was engaged in conversation with
his friend Belch, who was giving him instructions for the next
Congressional session.
“You see, Ele, if we could only send something of the right
stamp—the right stamp, I say, in the place of Watkins Bodley
from the third district, we should be all right. Bodley is very
uncertain.”
“I know,” returned the Honorable Mr. Ele, “Bodley is not
sound. He has not the true party feeling. He is not willing
to make sacrifices. And yet I think that—that—perhaps—”
He looked at General Belch inquiringly. That gentleman
turned, beamed approval, and squirted a copious cascade.
“Exactly,” said Mr. Ele, “I was saying that I think if Mr.
Bodkins, who is a perfectly honorable man—”
“Oh, perfectly; nothing against his character. Besides,
it's a free country, and every body may have his opinions,”
said General Belch.
“Precisely,” resumed Mr. Ele, “as I was saying; being a
perfectly honorable man—in fact, unusually honorable, I happen
to know that he is in trouble—ahem! ahem! pecuniary
trouble.”
He paused a moment, while his friend of the military title
looked hard at the grate, as if selecting a fair mark, then made
a clucking noise, and drenched it completely. He then said,
musingly,
“Yes, yes—ah yes—I see. It is a great pity. The best
men get into such trouble. How much money did you say he
wanted?”
“I said he was in pecuniary trouble,” returned Mr. Ele,
with a slight tone of correction.
“I understand, Mr. Ele,” answered the other, a little pompously,
and with an air of saying, “Know your place, Sir.”
“I understand, and I wish to know how large a sum would
relieve Mr. Bodley from his immediate pressure.”
“I think about eight or nine thousand dollars. Perhaps a
thousand more.”
“I suppose,” said General Belch, slowly, still looking into
the blank, dismal grate, and rubbing his fat nose steadily with
his fat forefinger and thumb, “I suppose that a man situated as
Mr. Bodley is finds it very detrimental to his business to be
engaged in public life, and might possibly feel it to be his duty
to his family and creditors to resign his place, if he saw a
promising way of righting his business, without depending
upon the chances of a Congressional career.”
As he drew to the end of this hypothetical harangue General
Belch looked sideways at his companion to see if he probably
understood him.
The Honorable Mr. Ele shook his head in turn, looked solemnly
into the empty grate, and said, slowly and with gravity:
“The supposition might be entertained for the sake of the
argument.”
The General was apparently satisfied with this reply, for he
continued:
“Let us, then, suppose that a sum of eight or nine thousand
dollars having been raised—and Mr. Bodley having resigned
—that a new candidate is to be selected who shall—who shall,
in fact, serve his country from our point of view, who ought
the man to be?”
“Precisely; who ought the man to be?” replied Mr. Ele.
The two gentlemen looked gravely into the grate. General
Belch squirted reflectively. The Honorable Mr. Ele raised
his hand and shaded his eyes, and gazed steadfastly, as if he
expected to see the candidate emerge from the chimney.
While they still sat thoughtfully a knock was heard at the
door. The General started and brought down his chair with
a crash. Mr. Ele turned sharply round, as if the candidate
had taken him by surprise in coming in by the door.
A boy handed General Belch a note:
“My dear Belch,—B. Newt, Son, & Co. have stopped.
We do not hear of an assignment, so desire you to take steps
at once to secure judgment upon the inclosed account.
“Yours,
Periwing & Buddby.”
“Hallo!” said General Belch, as the messenger retired,
“old Newt's smashed! However, it's a great while since he
has done any thing for the party.—By Jove!”
The last exclamation was sudden, as if he had been struck
by a happy thought. He took a fresh quid in his mouth, and,
putting his hands upon his knees, sat silently for five minutes,
and then said,
“I have the man!”
“You have the man?” said Ele, looking at him with interest.
“Certainly. Look here!”
Mr. Ele did look, as earnestly as if he expected the General
to take the man out of his pocket.
“You know we want to get the grant, at any rate. If
we only have men who see from our point of view, we are
sure of it. I think I know a man who can be persuaded to
look at the matter from that point—a man who may be of
very great service to the party, if we can persuade him to see
from our point of view.”
“Who is that?” asked Mr. Ele.
“Abel Newt,” replied General Belch.
Mr. Ele seemed somewhat surprised.
“Oh—yes—ah—indeed. I did not know he was in political
life,” said he.
“He isn't,” returned General Belch.
Mr. Ele looked for further instructions.
“Every body must begin,” said Belch. “Look here. If
we don't get this grant from Congress, what on earth is the
use of having worked so long in this devilish old harness of
politics? Haven't we been to primary meetings, and conventions,
and elections, and all the other tomfoolery, speechifying
and plotting and setting things right, and being bled, by Jupiter!—bled
to the tune of more hundreds than I mean to
lose; and now, just as we are where a bold push will save every
thing, and make it worth while to have worked in the
nasty mill so long, we must have our wits about us. Do you
know Abel Newt?”
“No.”
“I do. He is a gentleman without the slightest squeamishness.
He is perfectly able to see things from particular points
of view. He has great knowledge of the world, and he is a
friend of the people, Sir. His politics are of the right kind,”
said General Belch, in a tone which seemed to be setting the
tune for any future remarks Mr. Ele might have to make
about Mr. Newt — at public meetings, for instance, or elsewhere.
“I am glad to hear he is a friend of the people,” returned
Mr. Ele.
“Yes, Sir, he is the consistent enemy of a purse-proud aristocracy,
Sir.”
“Exactly; purse-proud aristocracy,” repeated Mr. Ele, as if
conning a lesson by rote.
“Dandled in the lap of luxury, he does not hesitate to
descend from it to espouse the immortal cause of popular
rights.”
“Popular rights,” returned the Honorable Mr. Ele, studying
his lesson.
“Animated by a glowing patriotism, he stands upon the
people, and waves above his head the glorious flag of our
country.”
“Glorious flag of our country,” responded the other.
“The undaunted enemy of monopoly, he is equally the foe
of class legislation and the friend of State rights.”
“Friend of State rights.”
“Ahem!” said General Belch, looking blankly at Mr. Ele,
“where was I?”
“Friend of State rights,” parroted Mr. Ele.
“Exactly; oh yes! And if ever the glorious fabric of our
country's—our country's—our country's—d— it! our country's
what, Mr. Ele?”
That honorable gentleman was engaged with his own
thoughts while he followed with his tongue the words of his
friend, so that, perhaps a little maliciously, perhaps a little
unconsciously, he went on in the same wooden tone of repetition.
“D—it! Our country's what, Mr. Ele?”
General Belch looked at his companion. They both smiled.
“How the old phrases sort o' slip out, don't they?” asked
the General, squirting.
“They do,” said Mr. Ele, taking snuff.
“Well, now, don't you see what kind of man Abel Newt
is?”
“I do, indeed,” replied Ele.
“I tell you, if you fellows from the city don't look out for
yourselves, you'll find him riding upon your shoulders. He is
a smart fellow. I am very sorry for Watkins Bodley. Any
family?”
“Yes—a good deal,” replied Mr. Ele, vaguely.
“Ah indeed! Pity! pity! I suppose, then, that a proper
sense of what he owes to his family—eh?”
“Without question. Oh! certainly.”
General Belch rose.
“I do not see, then, that we have any thing else that ought
to detain you. I will see Mr. Newt, and let you know. Good-morning,
Mr. Ele—good-morning, my dear Sir.”
And the General bowed out the representative so imperatively
that the Honorable B. Jawley Ele felt very much as if
he had been kicked down stairs.
