American fiction -- 19th century; Love stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; San Francisco (Calif.) -- Fiction
"Well, no,--for I've allus said that you took your first start from
Marysville. But I've brought a few friends of our party that I
reckoned to introduce to you. Cap'n Stidger, Chairman of our Central
Committee, Mr. Henry J. Hoskins, of the firm of Hoskins and Bloomer,
and Joe Slate, of the 'Union Press,' one of our most promising
journalists. Gentlemen," he continued, suddenly and without warning
lifting his voice to an oratorical plane in startling contrast to his
previous unaffected utterance, "I needn't say that this is the
honorable Paul Hathaway, the youngest state senator in the Legislature.
You know his record!" Then, recovering the ordinary accents of
humanity, he added, "We read of your departure last night from
Sacramento, and I thought we'd come early, afore the crowd."
"Proud to know you, sir," said Captain Stidger, suddenly lifting the
conversation to the platform again. "I have followed your career, sir.
I've read your speech, Mr. Hathaway, and, as I was telling our mutual
friend, Mr. Shear, as we came along, I don't know any man that could
state the real party issues as squarely. Your castigating exposition of
so-called Jeffersonian principles, and your relentless indictment of
the resolutions of '98, were--were"--coughed the captain, dropping into
conversation again--"were the biggest thing out. You have only to
signify the day, sir, that you will address us, and I can promise you
the largest audience in San Francisco."
"I'm instructed by the proprietor of the 'Union Press,'" said Mr.
Slate, feeling for his notebook and pencil, "to offer you its columns
for any explanations you may desire to make in the form of a personal
letter or an editorial in reply to the 'Advertiser's' strictures on
your speech, or to take any information you may have for the benefit of
our readers and the party."
"If you are ever down my way, Mr. Hathaway," said Mr. Hoskins, placing
a large business card in Hathaway's hand, "and will drop in as a
friend, I can show you about the largest business in the way of canned
provisions and domestic groceries in the State, and give you a look
around Battery Street generally. Or if you'll name your day, I've got
a pair of 2.35 Blue Grass horses that'll spin you out to the Cliff
House to dinner and back. I've had Governor Fiske, and Senator Doolan,
and that big English capitalist who was here last year, and they--well,
sir,--they were PLEASED! Or if you'd like to see the town--if this is
your first visit--I'm a hand to show you."
Nothing could exceed Mr. Hathaway's sympathetic acceptance of their
courtesies, nor was there the least affectation in it. Thoroughly
enjoying his fellowmen, even in their foibles, they found him
irresistibly attractive. "I lived here seven years ago," he said,
smiling, to the last speaker.
"When the water came up to Montgomery Street," interposed Mr. Shear, in
a hoarse but admiring aside.
"When Mr. Hammersley was mayor," continued Hathaway.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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