“Judge,” said the Tammany Boss, “if you want to be postmaster, we won’t oppose you. We want you to have something that will satisfy you.” Power went to the White House, where Lamont received him with the statement that the President had been asking for him a number of times and could not understand why he had been absent from the inaugural ceremonies. The caller was taken into the President’s executive office, where, although the month was March, Cleveland sat at his desk in shirt-sleeves. He came at once to the point. “Look here,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to know whether you’d accept the New York postmastership. Will you? For old friendship’s sake, I should like yours to be the first appointment I make for New York.” “I’m not strong in administrative work, as I don’t like details,” said Power. Then, jokingly, he added: “If you have some less exacting position which will not conflict with my attending to my foundry, I’d be glad to accept that.” Cleveland said that he knew of no such position. However, at 10:30 that night, Power was again sent for. “I’ve found the place for you,” said the President. “They tell me that the Shipping Commissionership in New York pays $5,000, and will require but little of your time.” To that post Power was duly appointed. My relations with him were always pleasant. He once told me that the lack of funds was about to result in the dissolution of the County Organization and said that I could have the chairmanship if I were willing to contribute $25,000 toward keeping it alive: I had no ambition in that direction, and Charles A. Jackson got the place. Again, in 1887, when Power was in the saddle, my partner, Lachman, wanted the nomination of Judge in the Sixth District Court, but because he has always been a very modest man, and because he had heard that Judge Kelly, then holding that office, was seeking renomination, he would not follow the usual custom of going personally to Power and urging his cause. One day within a month of election, as I crossed Park Place, I saw Power seated on a bootblack’s stand in front of his office at 235 Broadway. I immediately went to our office at 243 Broadway, and stormed Lachman into visiting that bootblack stand immediately. “The queer thing is,” said Power, “that I should not have thought of you for the place long ago. Of course you shall have the place.” He went through the form of offering renomination to Kelly, who declined it. I ran a fourteen-day campaign for Lachman, and he was elected. This was my only experience in managing a political campaign until I became chairman of the Democratic Finance Committee in the National Campaign of 1912.