Didactic fiction; Political fiction; Social problems -- Fiction
At this point, as might have been expected, spontaneous applause broke
forth, originating in the right-hand stage box. Here was a daring
defiance indeed, a courage of such a high order that it completely
carried away the ladies and drew reluctant plaudits from the male
element. "Give it to 'em, Humphrey!" said one of those who happened to be
sitting next to Miss Flint, and who received a very severe pinch in the
arm in consequence.
"I thank the gentleman," answered Mr. Crewe, "and I propose to
--(Handclapping and sachet.) I propose to show that you spend something
like two hundred thousand dollars a year to elect legislators and send
'em to the capital, when the real government of your State is in a room
in the Pelican Hotel known as the Railroad Room, and the real governor is
a citizen of your town, the Honourable Hilary Vane, who sits there and
acts for his master, Mr. Augustus P. Flint of New York. And I propose to
prove to you that, before the Honourable Adam B. Hunt appeared as that
which has come to be known as the 'regular' candidate, Mr. Flint sent for
him to go to New York and exacted certain promises from him. Not that it
was necessary, but the Northeastern Railroads never take any chances.
(Laughter.) The Honourable Adam B. Hunt is what they call a 'safe' man,
meaning by that a man who will do what Mr. Flint wants him to do. While I
am not 'safe' because I have dared to defy them in your name, and will do
what the people want me to do. (Clapping and cheers from a gentleman in
the darkness, afterwards identified as Mr. Tooting.) Now, my friends, are
you going to continue to allow a citizen of New York to nominate your
governors, and do you intend, tamely, to give the Honourable Adam B. Hunt
your votes?"
"They ain't got any votes," said a voice--not that of Mr. Hastings Weare,
for it came from the depths of the gallery.
"'The hand that rocks the cradle sways the world,'" answered Mr. Crewe,
and there was no doubt about the sincerity of the applause this time.
"The campaign of the Honourable Humphrey Crewe of Leith," said the State
Tribune next day, "was inaugurated at the Opera House in Ripton last
night before an enthusiastic audience consisting of Mr. Austen Vane, Mr.
Thomas Gaylord, Jr., Mr. Hamilton Tooting, two reporters, and
seventy-four ladies, who cheered the speaker to the echo. About half of
these ladies were summer residents of Leith in charge of the well-known
social leader, Mrs. Patterson Pomfret,--an organized league which, it is
understood, will follow the candidate about the State in the English
fashion, kissing the babies and teaching the mothers hygienic cooking and
how to ondule the hair."
After speaking for an hour and a half, the Honourable Humphrey Crewe
declared that he would be glad to meet any of the audience who wished to
shake his hand, and it was Mrs. Pomfret who reached him first.
"Don't be discouraged, Humphrey,--you are magnificent," she whispered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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