"boys," said mr. smith to the two hostlers, stepping out on to the sidewalk in front of the hotel,—"hoist that there british jack over the place and hoist her up good."
then he stood and watched the flag fluttering in the wind.
"billy," he said to the desk clerk, "get a couple more and put them up on the roof of the caff behind the hotel. wire down to the city and get a quotation on a hundred of them. take them signs 'american drinks' out of the bar. put up noo ones with 'british beer at all hours'; clear out the rye whiskey and order in scotch and irish, and then go up to the printing office and get me them placards."
then another thought struck mr. smith.
"say, billy," he said, "wire to the city for fifty pictures of king george. get 'em good, and get 'em coloured. it don't matter what they cost."
"all right, sir," said billy.
"and billy," called mr. smith, as still another thought struck him (indeed, the moment mr. smith went into politics you could see these thoughts strike him like waves), "get fifty pictures of his father, old king albert."
"all right, sir."
"and say, i tell you, while you're at it, get some of the old queen, victorina, if you can. get 'em in mourning, with a harp and one of them lions and a three-pointed prong."
it was on the morning after the conservative convention. josh smith had been chosen the candidate. and now the whole town was covered with flags and placards and there were bands in the streets every evening, and noise and music and excitement that went on from morning till night.
election times are exciting enough even in the city. but there the excitement dies down in business hours. in mariposa there aren't any business hours and the excitement goes on all the time.
mr. smith had carried the convention before him. there had been a feeble attempt to put up nivens. but everybody knew that he was a lawyer and a college man and wouldn't have a chance by a man with a broader outlook like josh smith.
so the result was that smith was the candidate and there were placards out all over the town with smith and british allegiance in big letters, and people were wearing badges with mr. smith's face on one side and king george's on the other, and the fruit store next to the hotel had been cleaned out and turned into committee rooms with a gang of workers smoking cigars in it all day and half the night.
there were other placards, too, with bagshaw and liberty, bagshaw and prosperity, vote for the old missinaba standard bearer, and up town beside the mariposa house there were the bagshaw committee rooms with a huge white streamer across the street, and with a gang of bagshaw workers smoking their heads off.
but mr. smith had an estimate made which showed that nearly two cigars to one were smoked in his committee rooms as compared with the liberals. it was the first time in five elections that the conservative had been able to make such a showing as that.
one might mention, too, that there were drone placards out,—five or six of them,—little things about the size of a pocket handkerchief, with a statement that "mr. edward drone solicits the votes of the electors of missinaba county." but you would never notice them. and when drone tried to put up a streamer across the main street with drone and honesty the wind carried it away into the lake.
the fight was really between smith and bagshaw, and everybody knew it from the start.
i wish that i were able to narrate all the phases and the turns of the great contest from the opening of the campaign till the final polling day. but it would take volumes.
first of all, of course, the trade question was hotly discussed in the two newspapers of mariposa, and the newspacket and the times-herald literally bristled with statistics. then came interviews with the candidates and the expression of their convictions in regard to tariff questions.
"mr. smith," said the reporter of the mariposa newspacket, "we'd like to get your views of the effect of the proposed reduction of the differential duties."
"by gosh, pete," said mr. smith, "you can search me. have a cigar."
"what do you think, mr. smith, would be the result of lowering the ad valorem british preference and admitting american goods at a reciprocal rate?"
"it's a corker, ain't it?" answered mr. smith. "what'll you take, lager or domestic?"
and in that short dialogue mr. smith showed that he had instantaneously grasped the whole method of dealing with the press. the interview in the paper next day said that mr. smith, while unwilling to state positively that the principle of tariff discrimination was at variance with sound fiscal science, was firmly of opinion that any reciprocal interchange of tariff preferences with the united states must inevitably lead to a serious per capita reduction of the national industry.
"mr. smith," said the chairman of a delegation of the manufacturers of mariposa, "what do you propose to do in regard to the tariff if you're elected?"
"boys," answered mr. smith, "i'll put her up so darned high they won't never get her down again."
"mr. smith," said the chairman of another delegation, "i'm an old free trader—"
"put it there," said mr. smith, "so'm i. there ain't nothing like it."
"what do you think about imperial defence?" asked another questioner.
"which?" said mr. smith.
"imperial defence."
"of what?"
"of everything."
"who says it?" said mr. smith.
"everybody is talking of it."
"what do the conservative boys at ottaway think about it?" answered mr. smith.
"they're all for it."
"well, i'm fer it too," said mr. smith.
these little conversations represented only the first stage, the argumentative stage of the great contest. it was during this period, for example, that the mariposa newspacket absolutely proved that the price of hogs in mariposa was decimal six higher than the price of oranges in southern california and that the average decennial import of eggs into missinaba county had increased four decimal six eight two in the last fifteen years more than the import of lemons in new orleans.
figures of this kind made the people think. most certainly.
after all this came the organizing stage and after that the big public meetings and the rallies. perhaps you have never seen a county being "organized." it is a wonderful sight.
first of all the bagshaw men drove through crosswise in top buggies and then drove through it again lengthwise. whenever they met a farmer they went in and ate a meal with him, and after the meal they took him out to the buggy and gave him a drink. after that the man's vote was absolutely solid until it was tampered with by feeding a conservative.
in fact, the only way to show a farmer that you are in earnest is to go in and eat a meal with him. if you won't eat it, he won't vote for you. that is the recognized political test.
but, of course, just as soon as the bagshaw men had begun to get the farming vote solidified, the smith buggies came driving through in the other direction, eating meals and distributing cigars and turning all the farmers back into conservatives.
here and there you might see edward drone, the independent candidate, wandering round from farm to farm in the dust of the political buggies. to each of the farmers he explained that he pledged himself to give no bribes, to spend no money and to offer no jobs, and each one of them gripped him warmly by the hand and showed him the way to the next farm.
after the organization of the county there came the period of the public meetings and the rallies and the joint debates between the candidates and their supporters.
i suppose there was no place in the whole dominion where the trade question—the reciprocity question—was threshed out quite so thoroughly and in quite such a national patriotic spirit as in mariposa. for a month, at least, people talked of nothing else. a man would stop another in the street and tell him that he had read last night that the average price of an egg in new york was decimal ought one more than the price of an egg in mariposa, and the other man would stop the first one later in the day and tell him that the average price of a hog in idaho was point six of a cent per pound less (or more,—he couldn't remember which for the moment) than the average price of beef in mariposa.
people lived on figures of this sort, and the man who could remember most of them stood out as a born leader.
but of course it was at the public meetings that these things were most fully discussed. it would take volumes to do full justice to all the meetings that they held in missinaba county. but here and there single speeches stood out as masterpieces of convincing oratory. take, for example, the speech of john henry bagshaw at the tecumseh corners school house. the mariposa times-herald said next day that that speech would go down in history, and so it will,—ever so far down.
anyone who has heard bagshaw knows what an impressive speaker he is, and on this night when he spoke with the quiet dignity of a man old in years and anxious only to serve his country, he almost surpassed himself. near the end of his speech somebody dropped a pin, and the noise it made in falling fairly rattled the windows.
"i am an old man now, gentlemen," bagshaw said, "and the time must soon come when i must not only leave politics, but must take my way towards that goal from which no traveller returns."
there was a deep hush when bagshaw said this. it was understood to imply that he thought of going to the united states.
"yes, gentlemen, i am an old man, and i wish, when my time comes to go, to depart leaving as little animosity behind me as possible. but before i do go, i want it pretty clearly understood that there are more darn scoundrels in the conservative party than ought to be tolerated in any decent community. i bear," he continued, "malice towards none and i wish to speak with gentleness to all, but what i will say is that how any set of rational responsible men could nominate such a skunk as the conservative candidate passes the bounds of my comprehension. gentlemen, in the present campaign there is no room for vindictive abuse. let us rise to a higher level than that. they tell me that my opponent, smith, is a common saloon keeper. let it pass. they tell me that he has stood convicted of horse stealing, that he is a notable perjurer, that he is known as the blackest-hearted liar in missinaba county. let us not speak of it. let no whisper of it pass our lips.
"no, gentlemen," continued bagshaw, pausing to take a drink of water, "let us rather consider this question on the high plane of national welfare. let us not think of our own particular interests but let us consider the good of the country at large. and to do this, let me present to you some facts in regard to the price of barley in tecumseh township."
then, amid a deep stillness, bagshaw read off the list of prices of sixteen kinds of grain in sixteen different places during sixteen years.
"but let me turn," bagshaw went on to another phase of the national subject, "and view for a moment the price of marsh hay in missinaba county—"
when bagshaw sat down that night it was felt that a liberal vote in tecumseh township was a foregone conclusion.
but here they hadn't reckoned on the political genius of mr. smith. when he heard next day of the meeting, he summoned some of his leading speakers to him and he said:
"boys, they're beating us on them statissicks. ourn ain't good enough."
then he turned to nivens and he said:
"what was them figures you had here the other night?"
nivens took out a paper and began reading.
"stop," said mr. smith, "what was that figure for bacon?"
"fourteen million dollars," said nivens.
"not enough," said mr. smith, "make it twenty. they'll stand for it, them farmers."
nivens changed it.
"and what was that for hay?"
"two dollars a ton."
"shove it up to four," said mr. smith: "and i tell you," he added, "if any of them farmers says the figures ain't correct, tell them to go to washington and see for themselves; say that if any man wants the proof of your figures let him go over to england and ask,—tell him to go straight to london and see it all for himself in the books."
after this, there was no more trouble over statistics. i must say though that it is a wonderfully convincing thing to hear trade figures of this kind properly handled. perhaps the best man on this sort of thing in the campaign was mullins, the banker. a man of his profession simply has to have figures of trade and population and money at his fingers' ends and the effect of it in public speaking is wonderful.
no doubt you have listened to speakers of this kind, but i question whether you have ever heard anything more typical of the sort of effect that i allude to than mullins's speech at the big rally at the fourth concession.
mullins himself, of course, knows the figures so well that he never bothers to write them into notes and the effect is very striking.
"now, gentlemen," he said very earnestly, "how many of you know just to what extent the exports of this country have increased in the last ten years? how many could tell what per cent. of increase there has been in one decade of our national importation?"—then mullins paused and looked round. not a man knew it.
"i don't recall," he said, "exactly the precise amount myself,—not at this moment,—but it must be simply tremendous. or take the question of population," mullins went on, warming up again as a born statistician always does at the proximity of figures, "how many of you know, how many of you can state, what has been the decennial percentage increase in our leading cities—?"
there he paused, and would you believe it, not a man could state it.
"i don't recall the exact figures," said mullins, "but i have them at home and they are positively colossal."
but just in one phase of the public speaking, the candidacy of mr. smith received a serious set-back.
it had been arranged that mr. smith should run on a platform of total prohibition. but they soon found that it was a mistake. they had imported a special speaker from the city, a grave man with a white tie, who put his whole heart into the work and would take nothing for it except his expenses and a sum of money for each speech. but beyond the money, i say, he would take nothing.
he spoke one night at the tecumseh corners social hall at the same time when the liberal meeting was going on at the tecumseh corners school house.
"gentlemen," he said, as he paused half way in his speech,—"while we are gathered here in earnest discussion, do you know what is happening over at the meeting place of our opponents? do you know that seventeen bottles of rye whiskey were sent out from the town this afternoon to that innocent and unsuspecting school house? seventeen bottles of whiskey hidden in between the blackboard and the wall, and every single man that attends that meeting,—mark my words, every single man,—will drink his fill of the abominable stuff at the expense of the liberal candidate!"
just as soon as the speaker said this, you could see the smith men at the meeting look at one another in injured surprise, and before the speech was half over the hall was practically emptied.
after that the total prohibition plank was changed and the committee substituted a declaration in favour of such a form of restrictive license as should promote temperance while encouraging the manufacture of spirituous liquors, and by a severe regulation of the liquor traffic should place intoxicants only in the hands of those fitted to use them.
finally there came the great day itself, the election day that brought, as everybody knows, the crowning triumph of mr. smith's career. there is no need to speak of it at any length, because it has become a matter of history.
in any case, everybody who has ever seen mariposa knows just what election day is like. the shops, of course, are, as a matter of custom, all closed, and the bar rooms are all closed by law so that you have to go in by the back way. all the people are in their best clothes and at first they walk up and down the street in a solemn way just as they do on the twelfth of july and on st. patrick's day, before the fun begins. everybody keeps looking in at the different polling places to see if anybody else has voted yet, because, of course, nobody cares to vote first for fear of being fooled after all and voting on the wrong side.
most of all did the supporters of mr. smith, acting under his instructions, hang back from the poll in the early hours. to mr. smith's mind, voting was to be conducted on the same plan as bear-shooting.
"hold back your votes, boys," he said, "and don't be too eager. wait till she begins to warm up and then let 'em have it good and hard."
in each of the polling places in mariposa there is a returning officer and with him are two scrutineers, and the electors, i say, peep in and out like mice looking into a trap. but if once the scrutineers get a man well into the polling booth, they push him in behind a little curtain and make him vote. the voting, of course, is by secret ballot, so that no one except the scrutineers and the returning officer and the two or three people who may be round the poll can possibly tell how a man has voted.
that's how it comes about that the first results are often so contradictory and conflicting. sometimes the poll is badly arranged and the scrutineers are unable to see properly just how the ballots are being marked and they count up the liberals and conservatives in different ways. often, too, a voter makes his mark so hurriedly and carelessly that they have to pick it out of the ballot box and look at it to see what it is.
i suppose that may have been why it was that in mariposa the results came out at first in such a conflicting way. perhaps that was how it was that the first reports showed that edward drone the independent candidate was certain to win. you should have seen how the excitement grew upon the streets when the news was circulated. in the big rallies and meetings of the liberals and conservatives, everybody had pretty well forgotten all about drone, and when the news got round at about four o'clock that the drone vote was carrying the poll, the people were simply astounded. not that they were not pleased. on the contrary. they were delighted. everybody came up to drone and shook hands and congratulated him and told him that they had known all along that what the country wanted was a straight, honest, non-partisan representation. the conservatives said openly that they were sick of party, utterly done with it, and the liberals said that they hated it. already three or four of them had taken drone aside and explained that what was needed in the town was a straight, clean, non-partisan post-office, built on a piece of ground of a strictly non-partisan character, and constructed under contracts that were not tainted and smirched with party affiliation. two or three men were willing to show to drone just where a piece of ground of this character could be bought. they told him too that in the matter of the postmastership itself they had nothing against trelawney, the present postmaster, in any personal sense, and would say nothing against him except merely that he was utterly and hopelessly unfit for his job and that if drone believed, as he had said he did, in a purified civil service, he ought to begin by purifying trelawney.
already edward drone was beginning to feel something of what it meant to hold office and there was creeping into his manner the quiet self-importance which is the first sign of conscious power.
in fact, in that brief half-hour of office, drone had a chance to see something of what it meant. henry mcginnis came to him and asked straight out for a job as federal census-taker on the ground that he was hard up and had been crippled with rheumatism all winter. nelson williamson asked for the post of wharf master on the plea that he had been laid up with sciatica all winter and was absolutely fit for nothing. erasmus archer asked him if he could get his boy pete into one of the departments at ottawa, and made a strong case of it by explaining that he had tried his cussedest to get pete a job anywhere else and it was simply impossible. not that pete wasn't a willing boy, but he was slow,—even his father admitted it,—slow as the devil, blast him, and with no head for figures and unfortunately he'd never had the schooling to bring him on. but if drone could get him in at ottawa, his father truly believed it would be the very place for him. surely in the indian department or in the astronomical branch or in the new canadian navy there must be any amount of opening for a boy like this? and to all of these requests drone found himself explaining that he would take the matter under his very earnest consideration and that they must remember that he had to consult his colleagues and not merely follow the dictates of his own wishes. in fact, if he had ever in his life had any envy of cabinet ministers, he lost it in this hour.
but drone's hour was short. even before the poll had closed in mariposa, the news came sweeping in, true or false, that bagshaw was carrying the county. the second concession had gone for bagshaw in a regular landslide, six votes to only two for smith,—and all down the township line road (where the hay farms are) bagshaw was said to be carrying all before him.
just as soon as that news went round the town, they launched the mariposa band of the knights of pythias (every man in it is a liberal) down the main street with big red banners in front of it with the motto bagshaw forever in letters a foot high. such rejoicing and enthusiasm began to set in as you never saw. everybody crowded round bagshaw on the steps of the mariposa house and shook his hand and said they were proud to see the day and that the liberal party was the glory of the dominion and that as for this idea of non-partisan politics the very thought of it made them sick. right away in the committee rooms they began to organize the demonstration for the evening with lantern slides and speeches and they arranged for a huge bouquet to be presented to bagshaw on the platform by four little girls (all liberals) all dressed in white.
and it was just at this juncture, with one hour of voting left, that mr. smith emerged from his committee rooms and turned his voters on the town, much as the duke of wellington sent the whole line to the charge at waterloo. from every committee room and sub-committee room they poured out in flocks with blue badges fluttering on their coats.
"get at it, boys," said mr. smith, "vote and keep on voting till they make you quit."
then he turned to his campaign assistant. "billy," he said, "wire down to the city that i'm elected by an overwhelming majority and tell them to wire it right back. send word by telephone to all the polling places in the county that the hull town has gone solid conservative and tell them to send the same news back here. get carpenters and tell them to run up a platform in front of the hotel; tell them to take the bar door clean off its hinges and be all ready the minute the poll quits."
it was that last hour that did it. just as soon as the big posters went up in the windows of the mariposa newspacket with the telegraphic despatch that josh smith was reported in the city to be elected, and was followed by the messages from all over the county, the voters hesitated no longer. they had waited, most of them, all through the day, not wanting to make any error in their vote, but when they saw the smith men crowding into the polls and heard the news from the outside, they went solid in one great stampede, and by the time the poll was declared closed at five o'clock there was no shadow of doubt that the county was saved and that josh smith was elected for missinaba.
i wish you could have witnessed the scene in mariposa that evening. it would have done your heart good,—such joy, such public rejoicing as you never saw. it turned out that there wasn't really a liberal in the whole town and that there never had been. they were all conservatives and had been for years and years. men who had voted, with pain and sorrow in their hearts, for the liberal party for twenty years, came out that evening and owned up straight that they were conservatives. they said they could stand the strain no longer and simply had to confess. whatever the sacrifice might mean, they were prepared to make it.
even mr. golgotha gingham, the undertaker, came out and admitted that in working for john henry bagshaw he'd been going straight against his conscience. he said that right from the first he had had his misgivings. he said it had haunted him. often at night when he would be working away quietly, one of these sudden misgivings would overcome him so that he could hardly go on with his embalming. why, it appeared that on the very first day when reciprocity was proposed, he had come home and said to mrs. gingham that he thought it simply meant selling out the country. and the strange thing was that ever so many others had just the same misgivings. trelawney admitted that he had said to mrs. trelawney that it was madness, and jeff thorpe, the barber, had, he admitted, gone home to his dinner, the first day reciprocity was talked of, and said to mrs. thorpe that it would simply kill business in the country and introduce a cheap, shoddy, american form of haircut that would render true loyalty impossible. to think that mrs. gingham and mrs. trelawney and mrs. thorpe had known all this for six months and kept quiet about it! yet i think there were a good many mrs. ginghams in the country. it is merely another proof that no woman is fit for politics.
the demonstration that night in mariposa will never be forgotten. the excitement in the streets, the torchlights, the music of the band of the knights of pythias (an organization which is conservative in all but name), and above all the speeches and the patriotism.
they had put up a big platform in front of the hotel, and on it were mr. smith and his chief workers, and behind them was a perfect forest of flags. they presented a huge bouquet of flowers to mr. smith, handed to him by four little girls in white,—the same four that i spoke of above, for it turned out that they were all conservatives.
then there were the speeches. judge pepperleigh spoke and said that there was no need to dwell on the victory that they had achieved, because it was history; there was no occasion to speak of what part he himself had played, within the limits of his official position, because what he had done was henceforth a matter of history; and nivens, the lawyer, said that he would only say just a few words, because anything that he might have done was now history; later generations, he said, might read it but it was not for him to speak of it, because it belonged now to the history of the country. and, after them, others spoke in the same strain and all refused absolutely to dwell on the subject (for more than half an hour) on the ground that anything that they might have done was better left for future generations to investigate. and no doubt this was very true, as to some things, anyway.
mr. smith, of course, said nothing. he didn't have to,—not for four years,—and he knew it.
