I resumed work on the Tribune that week. My first assignment was a mass meeting in a big temporary structure--then called a wigwam--over in Brooklyn. My political life began that day and all by an odd chance. The wigwam was crowded to the doors. The audience bad been waiting half an hour for the speaker. The chairman had been doing his best to kill time but had run out of ammunition. He had sat down to wait, an awkward silence had begun. The crowd was stamping and whistling and clapping with impatience. As I walked down the centre aisle, to the reporter's table, they seemed to mistake me for the speaker. Instantly a great uproar began. It grew louder every step I took. I began to wonder and then to fear the truth. As I neared the stage the chairman came forward beckoning to me. I went to the flight of steps leading up to that higher level of distinguished citizens and halted, not knowing just what to do. He came and leaned over and whispered down at me. I remember he was red in the face and damp with perspiration. 'What is your name?' he enquired. 'Brower,' said I in a whisper. A look of relief came into his face and I am sure a look of anxiety came into mine. He had taken the centre of the stage before I could stop him. 'Lathes and gentlemen,' said he, 'I am glad to inform you that General Brower has at last arrived. I remembered then there was a General Brower in the army who was also a power in politics. In the storm of applause that followed this announcement, I beckoned him to the edge of the platform again. I was nearer a condition of mental panic than I have ever known since that day. 'I am not General Brower,' I whispered. 'What!' said he in amazement. 'I am not General Brower,' I said. 'Great heavens!' he whispered, covering his mouth with his band and looking very thoughtful. 'You'll have to make a speech, anyway--there's no escape. I could see no way out of it and, after a moment's hesitation, ascended the platform took off my overcoat and made a speech. Fortunately the issue was one with which I had been long familiar. I told them how I had been trapped. The story put the audience in good humour and they helped me along with very generous applause. And so began my career in politics which has brought me more honour than I deserved although I know it has not been wholly without value to my country. It enabled me to repay in part the kindness of my former chief at a time when he was sadly in need of friends. I remember meeting him in Washington a day of that exciting campaign of '72. I was then in Congress. 'I thank you for what you have done, Brower,' said he, 'but I tell you I am licked. I shall not carry a single state. I am going to be slaughtered. He had read his fate and better than he knew. In politics he was a great prophet. Chapter 43