In course of time his Hair outgrew the Legislature. He was on
whispering terms with a clean majority of all the Partisans in three
connecting Counties, so he bought one Gross of the White String Kind
and a pair of Gum Sneakers and began to run amuck as a Candidate for
Congress.
Even his trusty Henchmen were frightened to know that he had become
obsessed of such a vaulting Ambition.
They did not have him sized, that was all. The farther from home he
traveled, the more resounding was the Hit he registered.
The Days of Spring were lengthening and the Campaign was not far
distant when Sylvester, after looking at the Signs in the Sky and
putting his Ear to the Ground, discovered that he was thoroughly
impregnated with the new Progressive Doctrines.
The change came overnight, but he was in the Band Wagon ahead of the
Driver.
As nearly as he could formulate his private Platform, he was still
true to his Party but likewise very keen for any Reform Measure that
55 per cent. of the Voters might favor, either at the present time or
previous to any future Election.
After the heated Radicals in every School District had listened to
Sylvester and learned that all his Views coincided to a T with their
own revised Schedule, they lined up and landslided.
One November morning Our Hero, no longer a penniless Law Student, but
owing, at a conservative Estimate, between $6000 and $8000, sat
tranquilly in front of the T-Bone Steak, the Eggs, the Batter Cakes,
the Cinnamon Rolls, and the Reservoir of Coffee, comprising the
Breakfast of one who always remained near to the Rank and File.
His Hair was roached in a new way, for the Bulletins at Midnight had
told him that he was a Congressman.
Those who had known him in the old Free-Lunch Days, when a Tie lasted
him for a Week, now felt honored to receive his stately Salutation as
he moved slowly from the Post Office up to the Drug Store, to buy his
Bronchial Lozenges.
Many of the Lower Classes, as well as the more Prominent People
belonging to the Silver Cornet Band, were gathered at the Station when
he started for Washington to fight in the impending Battle between the
Corn-Shuckers and the Allies of Standard Oil.
Men and Women standing right there in the Crowd could remember when he
had borrowed his first Dollar.
And now he was going to stand beneath the dome of the Capitol to weave
a new Fabric of Government and see that it didn't crock or unravel.
Sylvester and his glossy Trunk arrived at the Mecca, where they were
pleasantly received by the Agent of the Transfer Company in full
Uniform, and a Senegambian with a Red Cap, who hunted up the Taxi.
After waiting many weary Years, Sylvester once more had a School Desk
of his own. It was in the far corner of a crowded Pit surrounded by
elevated Seats.
The Hon. Sylvester found himself entirely surrounded by victims of
involuntary Dumbness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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